Carpe Draconis
by Aoife Malfoy
Summary: AU. PostHogwarts. NO HBP SPOILERS. HPDM Slash. Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?
1. Act I

**Disclaimer: **HP is JKR's brainchild. I'm just babysitting for the moment.

**Rating: **PG-13 for profanity, **Slash** ahead, HPDM. Not very fast paced. **Creature! fic** as well.

**Summary: **Is it possible to capture a dragon when suddenly you find one within your reach?

**Carpe Draconis**

**By miss sheree**

Act I.

**_Oderint_****_ dum metuant._******

_Let them hate, so long as they fear._

"Why?" he asked, his voice soft yet firm filled with resounding determination. The question had haunted him for more years than he could count and now at their last official day of being Hogwarts students, he felt he was owed an explanation. So he had hunted the prat down and found him, surprisingly, atop the Astronomy Tower, looking strangely serene as he surveyed the Quidditch Pitch that they had battled on for the past seven years. It was what made him hesitate to disturb the blonde. He had truthfully never seen the Slytherin look so peaceful before, curiously devoid of his usual sneer and haughtiness. It surprised him that the sight was enough to stop him in his tracks and question his actions. It was rare to see his nemesis in such an unguarded moment and he felt like he was intruding. Suddenly, he remembered that this was _Malfoy_ he was talking about and that he shouldn't give a damn about the boy's sensibilities when he clearly never gave a fuck about his. And that's why he had seized his objective with vengeance and stepped forward to make his presence known but when he called out his voice had still softened under its own volition, indicating that the vision of the quiet Malfoy had gotten to him after all.

"Why what, Potter?" Draco Malfoy drawled as he turned to face the Four Eyed Boy Wonder, his silver grey orbs hardening into ice. Clearly Harry's intrusion had irked him for if looks could kill Draco might have done Voldemort's job for him, killing the savior of the Wizarding World on the spot with his venomous gaze. "There are so many things you don't know, it could fill up the whole Hogwarts Library so you would excuse me if I wouldn't know what the bloody hell you're prattling on about." He added derisively as he tossed back his glistening silver locks in arrogance.

Irritation bubbled inside Harry as he tried to keep his infamous temper in check. This always happened. He would say something to the Slytherin git and most of the time it couldn't even be remotely considered as an insult and yet every time Malfoy would throw back a nasty retort which would infuriate him into doing something stupid like punching the git or hexing him and always **_always_****** when there happened to be a professor nearby. He didn't know why everyone kept saying he was lucky, well besides his uncanny ability to escape certain death in the hands of Voldemort a whopping seven times but he sure as hell felt that cursed was the more likely way to define it. Choking backing his annoyance and searching for reserves of self-control he prayed he had, he managed to painfully bite out the question that had been stuck like an annoying splinter in his side. "Why do you hate me?"

It was an uncomfortable pressure that squeezed Harry's insides every time he would find himself the focus of heated silver-grey eyes. The unparalleled hostility within those orbs had always shocked and baffled him. Sure, he hated Malfoy but not like that. Even he, as dense as he usually was, knew that half of his fights with Malfoy were an unconscious attempt for him to escape his own troubles but it was quite obvious that the same could not be said about Malfoy. The git had hated him _for real_.

Widening grey eyes met his query the only indication that Malfoy had allowed to show that he had heard Harry's bewildering inquiry. Of all the questions that Potter could have asked him when he had caught Draco in his exposed position he had never expected the one that Potter had uttered. A suspicious _Why__ the fuck are you here in the __Astronomy__Tower__ without your cronies?_ would have been more to what he was used to. Or even a crushingly sarcastic _Why don't you just do us all a favor, Malfoy, and just throw yourself over the ledge?_ would have equally sufficed. Anything but this dangerous new line of questioning which coupled with Potter's unwavering open gaze was slowly undoing Draco's feeble attempts of reasserting the usual mask he wore in public, the one which he had dropped the moment he had stepped into his hiding place. He sneered in retaliation. He was a Malfoy and he would not give St. Potter any more glimpses of the chinks in his armor than that which he had already witnessed. Merlin knows what Dumbledore's favorite son was already thinking about seeing his moment of weakness.

Indeed that was what it was. Draco had never shown intimate emotion to anyone in his life. He had shown anger, yes, irritation, arrogance and his favorite weapon: hate and usually it was directed to the boy standing in front of him. But he had never allowed his face to relax in peace, contentment, happiness or any of the other goody-goody emotions that the members of the other houses clearly indulge themselves with. This was nothing new really. He had been taught earlier on that feelings were a weakness. He was to use them and manipulate them in anyone else but on himself he was to make sure he was devoid of it. So he hid in the mask he had made since he was young and harbored all of his secrets there. Always sneering, always arrogant and anything he had that wasn't Malfoyish he had carefully hidden under this mask.

Lately, however, he had found himself becoming more and more stifled under his facade. It was increasingly becoming more difficult during these trying times not to show that he, in fact, actually _felt_. That he had failed in becoming the glorified human icicle that his father clearly was and that underneath it all he still cared that a war was going on and that some of the people he knew would likely suffer in it as well. He was also very much afraid. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be called on to accept what his father had deemed as his birthright, the sinister Dark Mark which would brand him evil for all to see and as one of the Dark Lord's faithful followers. But he wasn't. Deep inside, something had made Draco realize this statement as truth. He would never willingly join Voldemort. Even though he was more than scared out of his wits about the thought of defying his father and the crazy maniac but this was not due to some altruistic motive, mind. After all, he was no Gryffindor. His motives were purely selfish and very Slytherin in nature. He knew the Dark Lord didn't share power and if he wanted power as much as he did, he would never be able to get it while groveling at that bastard's feet like his father did. And besides how powerful can the git really be if all it took was a one year old version of the skinny boy before him to take him down?

And that was why he took to his nightly sojourn atop the Astronomy Tower. His visit tonight was especially vital since this was going to be the last moment of peace he would be able to steal before he was thrown into the throes of the war. He needed to sort out his thoughts and come up with a plan that would get his sorry arse out of this whole mess. Damn his father anyway for blindly serving such a lunatic! Clearly the head of the Malfoy clan was not as astute as he professed to be. And now Potter had to go and ruin his solitude by invading his privacy and asking stupid questions. What was with Boy Wonder anyway? Why was he asking such an odd question and wearing that hint of desperation in his emerald eyes that made him look like he was embroiled in a haphazard attempt to psychoanalyze their naturally volatile enmity? Couldn't he just well enough leave Draco alone? Even for just one night? Especially this one night. So he tried to get Potter to leave the best and easiest way he could. He ignored the beseeching nature of Potter's weird inquiry and sneered, "What's not to hate? You are the annoyingly lucky bastard that always gets in the way of things. Everyone loves you and gives you special privileges and even that bloody snitch seems to be quite attached to you with the way it always follows you around on the Pitch. And, of course, we can't forget the obvious: You are Harry Potter and I am Draco Malfoy. Good versus Evil. Light versus Dark and all that."

"That's bullocks, Malfoy!" Harry said brusquely, annoyed that he was being lied to by the only person who had ever had the balls to always lay the brutal truth on Harry whether he liked it or not. "I. Saw. You." Harry said evenly as he continued to level his gaze on the blonde, unwilling to let the Slytherin brush off the telling moment he had just witnessed. The moment that had revealed for the first time that Draco Malfoy could be something as imperfect as human. That there was something more to him than what he let the rest of the world believe, than what he let Harry himself believe and this realization poured ice and fire in Harry's veins so shaken was he to witness the destruction of all of his preconceived notions of his enemy. Suddenly the only constant truth in his life wasn't constant anymore. Hell, it was painstakingly clear; it wasn't even truth to begin with. They stood there for a while, eyes challenging each other to be the first to break away. Emerald fire met silver ice and nothing changed. The fire never waned and the ice never melted. But then again, neither of them expected anything less.

"You. Saw. Nothing." Draco said with equal fervent, determined to deny any weakness or humanity the messy-haired wizard might have conceived in that cockamamie head of his.

Harry snorted and shook his head in disgust. "I never thought you would be coward enough to turn away from the truth, but I shouldn't be surprised. You have always had something to hide, Malfoy. I just never imagined that you would include your own sense of self in that list."

Draco barely managed reign in the stupid impulse of just decking Gryffindor's Golden Boy on his arse right then and there. He had abandoned the uncouth violent attacks that he had employed when he was younger, thinking of them as something beneath him and he sure as hell won't give in to those feelings now, especially not over Potter. But how dare he? How dare Potter assume he knew anything about him through the glimpse of that moment he so unashamedly stole? "As I said, Potter, you saw nothing. And as much as I am enjoying your usual display of blatant stupidity I must ask you to sod off and mind your own business. You are not welcomed here."

Harry smirked, "When have I ever been? But that is not the point. I asked you a question Malfoy and I want an honest answer, mind, that you're being a Malfoy might probably make that occurrence impossible. But I'll take that risk and still ask you, why do you hate me?"

Irritation lined Draco's angularly handsome face as he sniped, "Why the bloody hell do you care! You never have before! Just leave it! And more importantly leave _me_. I hate you. You hate me. End of story. With our histories, there shouldn't have to be an explanation."

"But I don't." Harry said quietly and in his calmness he had jolted Draco out of his infuriated ranting.

"What?" Draco said distractedly, unsure of what the hell the impudent boy was blathering on about.

"I don't hate you." Harry said calmly, his open gaze never wavering from shocked silver ones.

A sharp mocking laugh split the air and disturbed the stillness around them. "Now _that_ is bullocks! You don't honestly expect me to believe you?"

Harry watched as Malfoy continued to laugh in his face and he felt renewed irritation coursing through him. If Malfoy didn't want to believe him then fine! Whatever! He didn't seek out the prat for that. All he cared about really was the answer to his question. "I don't care if you believe me, Malfoy. I just honestly want to know. Why do you really hate me?"

That was enough to stun Draco into stopping his chortling. _Why the fuck was Potter being so damn insistent with this? Why did he want to know? _Draco thought irritably and it wasn't the first time in the last twenty minutes that he wished Potter would just sod off and leave him alone. "Why do you want to know?" He said cautiously, his dratted natural curiosity making itself known.

Harry smiled wanly as he saw that he had grabbed Malfoy's interest. Now he was getting somewhere. "I'll tell you after you've answered my question truthfully and believe me, I will know if you're lying."

Draco smirked. He doubted that highly. He was a very skilled actor and quite adept at hiding his lies, a practice he had mastered since he was young so he was skeptical that the virtuous, not to mention, embarrassingly transparent Golden Boy would see through him. After all, he had never succeeded before so there was no reason why he would start now except… _Damn! Potter really shouldn't have seen that! _Draco thought as he remembered how the boy had caught him unaware. Draco shifted his attention back to the expectant face that was still waiting for a reply and this instantly made him more curious. Why was his answer so important to Potter? What was this all about? In their seven years of rivalry, Potter had never shown an inclination to wondering about the cause of it so why was he starting now. Finally deciding that there would be no harm in answering the prat truthfully, especially since he deemed he wasn't revealing anything of import, he answered, "You really want to know? And you will tell me why you want to know after I'm done?"

"Yes. Yes. I'll tell you after you answer me." Harry said impatiently, hating the dramatics Malfoy always employed. _I mean really can't he just get to the point for once?_ He thought with a snort.

Satisfied, Draco began, "I hate you for a lot of things, Potter, all of which are as equally important as the next. Before you, I was always the best. I excelled in anything I endeavored: quidditch, school, and popularity. Whenever I walked into a room, it was sure that I was the center of attention. I was important. I was special. Before you, I always shined. Before you, Potter, I was the sun." Draco paused as he gathered his thoughts.

"And then you came along and changed everything. Suddenly when I walked in the room, I was no longer the center of attention. People weren't whispering about me. It was always you and that stupid scar. Moreover, your luck always held, be it with Quidditch, your stupid exploits, or even school. Everyone except Snape always looked the other way when the Golden Boy was involved. You, Potter, became the sun. It was you who always shined now. I, on the other hand, became the moon. Only able to shine when enveloped in darkness. And you know as well as I do that the sun and moon can never shine together. One always overshadows the other. And you, Potter, being the sun, will always shine because even in the darkest night one can still make out the silhouette of the sun. Even in darkness they can see you. But, me, even when I'm swathed in the brightest day, I'm invisible to their eyes. All because of you. And you know what's even more infuriating? I've began to realize that you did all this without even trying, hell; you did it without even knowing. How fucking pathetic is that? "

Harry let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. He had never imagined Malfoy felt that way. He knew Malfoy was jealous of him, of course, but he never knew this envy came from something so profound. "I-I don't know what to say. I never knew."

Draco shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under Potter's searching gaze. He knew he had inadvertently showed his archenemy a deeper glimpse of himself, something he had never allowed anyone before but it was too late for regrets now. Besides he couldn't bring himself to care either way. At any rate, today was the last day he would see Potter. Not counting, of course, the probability of facing him on the field of war. However when that time would come and which side he would be on when it did was still something he didn't want to dwell on just now, so he diverted himself by demanding Potter's end of the bargain. "Save it, Potter. I don't want your pity. I told you what you wanted to know. Now it's your turn. Why did you ask?" Draco asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.

"But there's more to it than that, isn't there? You said you had more reasons." Harry said curiously. Like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to this new side of Malfoy. Now that he had seen a glimpse underneath the mask, it became increasingly obvious to him that there was nothing he wanted more than to just rip if off Malfoy and fling it somewhere unreachable.

Again Draco shrugged nonchalantly, "I said there was more but I never said I would spill my fucking guts to you, Potter. Besides it would likely take all night to list every loathsome thing about you. So just tell me why you're being such an annoying leech already!"

A_h there's the Malfoy we all know and love._ Harry thought with a smirk. Copying the irritated boy, he shrugged as well and said, "Tonight may very well be the last time I will see you. We're leaving tomorrow and the reality we have known for the past seven years will change to only Merlin knows what. I just wanted to know before that happens the real reason behind your hatred for me."

Draco's arctic gaze never wavered. "Well now you know and as much as I am enjoying this little powwow, I would really like to be left alone." He said sarcastically, hoping that his usually cold demeanor would get the boy to finally leave. He was becoming increasingly wary of Potter and his suspicious sudden need to have a heart to heart with his archenemy.

"You don't have to go to him, you know." Harry said suddenly, his heart hammering in his chest as he blurted out the other volatile thing he wanted to talk to Malfoy about. It was the deeper reason for his seeking out the other boy. He had an inkling of it when he had come looking for Malfoy and after everything that had gone on tonight, he knew he was right. Malfoy wasn't _that_ bad.

His maliciousness and ambition was not enough to brand him as irreversibly evil. He was cunning, smart and looked out for his own hide but he didn't have that certain cruelty in him that would render him capable of watching someone get tortured for hours on end. He was no Voldemort and he was certainly no Lucius Malfoy. He saw that now. For after all, both men would probably never be caught dead brooding over the burdens on their souls, the way Malfoy looked like he was doing before he intruded.

Draco snorted. So Potter was playing this game, was he? The lets-recruit-the-most-likely-to-succeed-as-a-death-eater-before-he-kills-us-all scheme now, was it? Well two can play at that game and he would win by not playing at all. "I have no idea what you're bleating on about, Potter."

And to his eternal consternation, Potter had the utter gall to smirk at him, smirk at him! and to use his own intimidating device and say the words he had once spoken that fateful day on the train, "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort, Malfoy. I can help you there." Then slowly and meaningfully Potter raised his hand and held it out to shake Draco's.

Draco didn't know how long he had stared at Potter and his outstretched hand. A myriad of emotions and thoughts were tangling themselves inside his mind that he could hardly decipher them all. Part of him was indignantly angry, how dare Potter think that he was in any way _good_ and that he would betray his father to join him and his side? Another part was feeling dazed with the sense of dejavu and was recklessly thinking of how it would feel to wrap his pale hand around Harry's-er-Potter's and accept his offered friendship. And of course he was also feeling deliciously wicked and had thoughts of how sinfully good it would feel to do to Potter what he had done to him- snub his offer and pretend that his friendship was something beneath his notice and crush those hopeful green eyes. But was that really what he wanted? Or should he emerge from his hurt ego and finally grasp the only thing he had wanted since he had stepped inside Hogwarts?

What was he thinking? What was he thinking! Had he really entertained, for even a second, the thought of how good it would feel to be beside Harry-er-Potter! as his friend not his hated rival? He was clearly loosing his mind. Besides it was futile anyway. He could never betray the Malfoy name. He could never be a traitor. He was too proud for that. At any rate, he didn't believe in either side so did it really matter which side he died on? Abruptly, he turned away from Potter and his gesture, unable to look inside those haunting emeralds any longer. "You should go." He said evenly.

Harry was startled and began to protest, "But-"

"Just leave it be, Potter. You are in for a great disappointment if you think I can be redeemed. It was foolish of you to even attempt to capture, much less tame a dragon. I have no desire to be friends with filth like you." Draco lied through his teeth.

"Fine!" Harry spat out as he dropped his hand and began to storm out of the bloody tower. He didn't know why he bothered anyway! Honestly, Malfoy was right, what was he thinking believing that there was some sort of good buried inside the git or that he was capable of acting like a decent human being for once! He must really be off his rocker if he thought for one minute that-

"You can't save me anyway." Whispered a voice that was filled with so much pain, hurt and defeat that it took a while for Harry to register that the person who had spoken was actually the prat he was raging on about and when he finally did, the blasted door was already being magically shut in his face and securely locked.

Draco sank down on the cold stone floor as he finally let himself succumb to the shattering of his mask. It was a wonder he was able to keep it on for so long considering who he was with and what they had just talked about. He shuddered involuntarily just thinking about it, still disbelieving the fact that Harry Potter had finally offered him the friendship he had craved for and that he, Draco Malfoy, had refused. And to make matters worse, tomorrow he would be leaving. Draco rested his head against the hard wall as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Then suddenly, like an opening of floodgates, it became all too much for the seventeen year old. He had seen too much, known too much and felt too little. He swiped at something annoying that was tickling his cheek and stared dumbly at it.

A tear.

He was crying, openly weeping like the broken child he was secretly hiding inside himself.

But Malfoys never cried! And now he knew why.

For once they started; they wouldn't know how to stop.

**_Perrectum_****_…_**

_Thanks to my betas, Katelyn LouElla Bucy and Elizabeth Ice. Please review!_

**_Exinde_******

_Act II. _

_Damnant__ quod non intelligent._

_They condemn what they don't understand._


	2. Act II

**Carpe Draconis**

**By miss sheree**

**Act II.**

**Damnant**** quod non intelligent.**

_They condemn what they don't understand._

For a minute there, Harry just stared at the door dumbly. Had he just heard what he thought he did? Was that Malfoy who sounded so pained, so sad…so broken? He was about to start pounding on the door and demand answers to the many bewildering questions that were buzzing in his head when suddenly he heard it.

The sound of anguished tears. A muffled sobbing that spoke of years of tortured pain and of uneased suffering. The gut wrenching sound was too much. It reminded Harry of another broken child who used to cry out to the night waiting for someone to come and ease away the pain, only to awaken in the morning realizing that nobody answered his call. Knowing that no one would ever answer.

And it stopped his hand midway in knocking to stare horrifically at the door.

Then he fled. Away from the door, away from the wretched sound, away from the disturbing realization that not only was Draco Malfoy human but he was actually more like himself than anyone he'd ever met.

He ran like he had a fully returned to power Voldemort on his heels, only stopping when he reached his own hiding place. As he sank down bonelessly on the lake's shore, he wrapped his arms around his jellied legs and tried to find some comfort in his solitude. He had set out tonight looking for answers that had long disturbed him, only to return with even more confusing questions. Harry sighed. Truth be told when he saw Malfoy's name appear in the Maurader's Map he hadn't even bothered to think about it and just went after the boy. He hadn't even stopped to think of how odd it was that Malfoy was in the Astronomy Tower alone and not partying like his yearmates in the Slytherin Common Rooms. And it seemed clear to him now that in all their years of rivalry when it came to Malfoy he hadn't bothered much with him at all. Thinking back, he couldn't recall a single time when he had really looked at Malfoy and tried to get to know him better or at least rationalize his enemy's hatred for him. Strangely, this stuck a dull chord inside him and for some reason it hurt. That bewildered him to no end. After all this was _just_ Malfoy right? He shuddered as he suddenly realized that he lost the cold indifference he used to gain when twirling that flawed line of reasoning in his brain. For it wasn't_ just_ Malfoy now. The image of that broken boy crying into the darkness was affixed clearly in his mind and for some reason or the other it would not let go. The realization was so clear that it burned in his mind and he had lost all traces of the indifference he felt because it was _just_ Malfoy. There was more to his archrival than he had thought and he damned the git for it.

He damned himself even more for letting the fact get to him.

After all here he was happy living in the world of black and white where good was good and bad was bad. Where you could easily tell who the good guys were and you'd never imagine them having any darkness in their souls. Now Malfoy was blasting all those comforting lies away, proving to him that which he already knew: not everything is at it seems, not all that seem evil are indeed nefarious. After all, the world was more grey than it was black and white and everyone was tainted with some darkness and anyone can be capable of being touched by the light. Even _Voldemort_. Even _Malfoy_. Even _him_.

Moreover, it gave Harry hope where he wished it would not dwell. For after all, hope can be a double-edge sword. It sets up a trap that makes you put unfounded expectations on another and when the time for fulfillment of these expectations never comes to pass, all your left with is the sting of bitter disappointment. He wished he didn't feel such hope towards Malfoy, hope that he would change, that he would see the light and join him. He had even gone so far as to offer his help and friendship when he withheld them before and it stung when the prick didn't accept them. And yet here he was still hoping, wishing that he wasn't but it was there all the same.

All of this because of one stolen moment. He was snatched from his dream world and plunged into the darkness of the reality he had long hid from ever since the day he found out he was more than capable of casting the Cruciatus on someone. It was so much easier when things were black and white. Seeing Malfoy that way, so vulnerable, so broken and lost had been a great shock for him. But what came after was what plagued him the most. The moment Malfoy turned he saw something he was never meant to see. For the first time he looked,**_ really looked_** into those silver-grey eyes frosted with its usual cold turning the orbs into ice and in that reflective surface he saw himself mirrored as he really was. No Gryffindor glory, no false pretenses, no Potter legacy, no misguided hero worship, no wary fear nor any embellished truths. He saw himself for once being seen for who he really was, faults and all. Everybody else saw him with layers of expectations and prejudices that he almost felt suffocated when he went near them, even Ron and Hermione expected and wanted something from him. His status as the Savior of the Wizarding World had blinded them all into thinking he was so special and good that no darkness could ever touch his soul. He also knew that in their eyes, what they were seeing was an edited version of himself, carefully devoid of that raw anger and bitterness that had welled up inside him since 5th year. But here in those silver grey orbs he saw a Harry that was imperfect, one that was horribly flawed and had a touch of something sinister in him and in a way it was the closest thing to the truth that anyone could come up with. It didn't hide his fallibility. It didn't make him into any god or savior. It didn't explain away his own dark side. It wasn't blind to his humanity.

And it made him curse the sadistic puppetry of fate that the only time he would ever find himself complete and whole was in Draco Malfoy's eyes.

Damn, that Malfoy anyway.

-

"Damn, Potter! Curse him to the seven rings of hell!" Draco cursed viciously. He had just finished crying in anguish for the first time in his godforsaken life and nothing had changed. Whatever it was that he was expecting to happen when he gave into his weakness did not come to pass. The moon still shined and the stars still hung above. Whatever fire and brimstone or any other apocalyptic event he was envisioning didn't materialize after he disgraced himself and his name by indulging his asinine sentimentalities. Aside from the dried tears that had marked his porcelain skin, he was left unchanged. Still hurting, still lost, still broken. And he cursed himself for even believing for a second the fools' idiocy about "things being alright after a good cry". Then he realized to his utter dismay that Potter would have likely heard his little breakdown as well since he had forgotten to put a silencing charm on the tower. That's when he had started cursing.

"Bloody Gryffindork! Why didn't he just sod off anyway?" He said still fuming and very much aware of how idiotic he sounded talking to himself like this but too emotionally drained to care either way.

What made this worse was that it was Potter of all people who found him. **_Potter!_** But then again he shouldn't be surprised because it was always Potter that constantly found him at his weakest. It was part and parcel of why he hated the bastard. He was the only one who had managed to get a rise out of his usually emotionless self. It was Potter's insults that got to him the most, Potter's embarrassment that amused him the best and Potter's anger that poured fire inside his bloodless veins. He was the only one who could make him green with envy, blush pink with embarrassment and flush fiery red in unadulterated anger. He was truly the only one who made Draco _feel_. Not that what he made Draco feel was a positive emotion. Hurt, sadness, humiliation melding into bright flames of passionate rage can hardly be called a fluffy sweet sensation. He was the knife that would cut into Draco's side and instead of pain, Draco **_felt_**. And he hated it. Boy how he hated it! But craved for it and wanted it all the same. Because it was the only thing that let him knew that he was still alive. It was the only thing that allowed him to feel like the boy he was and not the dark wizard they expected him to be. It was the one thing that kept him human.

But he still hated it.

_Do not smile, Draco! You look like an idiot. Malfoys never smile, son, we sneer! Remember that! Lucius said as he gave him one final disgusted slap. Draco answered with an intoned, "Yes, father." without even flinching at the brute strength his dear old dad was forcing upon him. He knew resistance would only draw this out longer. He had learned long ago never to anger Lucius Malfoy; the circumstances could be quite unpleasant. "Emotions are for weak fools, son. Manipulate them in others to get what you want but do not let yourself be used. After all, feelings are overrated and they can prove to be one's greatest flaw and Malfoys do **not** have flaws. Joy is fleeting and love can be undermined. Happiness can be taken away as easily as you have found it so you must not put your faith in these temporary things. Because that is what love is! It's like glass or those expensive china plates your mother fancies. Hold on to it too tightly or handle it too roughly and it will break. Important things, those that are of value do not break, Draco. Remember that. Lucius finished with a glare to his only son._

And so he didn't. He never felt joy. He never felt love. He just never felt. He erected a strong wall around himself, one that was so powerful that nothing could escape it. No joy. No love. No feeling. No glimmer of these idiocies can be seen from his visage; even his brilliant silver eyes were dulled by the ever present aristocratic mien that he projected 24/7. Nothing would tear him down. He would be one of those things of value. He would uphold the Malfoy name. He would not break.

But then he met him.

Harry Potter.

And he had done what no one has. He was able to do the unthinkable, the unforgivable.

The first crack on the wall had appeared.

-

Harry tried to still his rapid breathing and his racing heartbeat. Yelling obscenities into the night was not going to help matters, nor was it a sane practice either. A part of him wanted to run back to the Astronomy Tower, fling the door open and- and- well…do _something_. What exactly did he want to accomplish? Did he really want to know why Malfoy looked so wretched? Did he really want to go back into that room and have to look into those haunting eyes?

He groaned and put his head in his hands. Why did he have to possess the volatile mix of Gryffindor courage and Slytherin curiosity?

-

Draco stood and hastily wiped away the last remnants of his brief sojourn to the land of blatant stupidity. He still could not believe he had done that and to be of hearing distance of Potter! He cursed again loudly for what seemed to be the millionth time in the day. For a brief moment, he was overwhelmingly tempted to find the boy and obliviate him but that would mean he would actually have to be near the fool to be able to cast it and he was not in a hurry to see the Golden Boy anytime soon. Preferably never, if at all possible.

He sighed, knowing that wish was an unattainable one. He was sure to see him again. After all, it always came back to Potter, didn't it? He was the reason why his father was in Azkaban. He was the reason the Dark Lord was back and why he went away in the first place and he was the reason why Draco now needed to choose his allegiance.

Draco took a deep breath. He did not want to go down that road again. It was futile to come up with a plausible plan out of this dreadful mess with the state he was in. And so he decided to enjoy his last day at Hogwarts. He wanted at least a few pleasant memories before he was sold into slavery by his own Father.

Soaring through the clouds, Draco felt the weight on his chest grow lighter as he flew higher and faster, his grip on his broom never slipping. The world below him was rapidly diminishing that he could barely make out the Quidditch Pitch anymore. He zoomed quickly overhead, startling a formation of ducks along the way. It was in that moment that he laughed. It started off like a sharp bark that bit into the silent night but it soon scaled into an onslaught of overwhelming guffaws. His laugh sounded as if it was coming from somewhere deep inside himself that he didn't allow to show too often. He succumbed to the absolute hilarity of the bird's shocked expression and for the first time in his life, he surrendered to the moment. Not wanting to descend from this newly found haven that seemed to keep his dark thoughts away, he barreled through the air faster. He twisted his body into doing spectacular leaps and bounds that he had never dared to make in any Quidditch game where he was far too aware of the many eyes that were watching, judging, awaiting and expecting to see him make a stupid move and fall off. Here in this one moment, he released the seventeen years of tension that was brewing in the pit of his stomach. He had never in his life felt so free. The practice of flying had been once again a thing that brought him the most divine pleasure. It made him almost forget how anxious and jittery he always was when he got on a broom ever since he started flying as Seeker for his House Team. Here there was no Lucius to disappoint and to be wary of. No prejudiced little bigots from other Houses to judge and jeer at him. No teammates or Housemates to let down and probably the most enjoyable thing of all, here there was no Potter to lose to. He surveyed the vast space before him with a genuine smile. He could hardly make out anything due to the lateness of the hour. It was nighttime and the moon has come out to shine.

Laughing at the sheer exhilaration of it all, he barreled down into another dive, pulling up just in time before he hit the ground to quickly turn and shoot up straight into the sky. He laughed until he was out of breath. He guffawed until he had tears that were of a different nature moistening his eyes once again. For in this one moment, he allowed himself to live.

Just this once.

Tomorrow will always come on its own accord.

But tonight, tonight was his alone.

Until the darkness would descend upon him and eat him whole.

But for now, just for now. He would succumb to this one weakness.

Just this once.

**_Perrectum_****_…_**

****

_Thanks to my beta, Katelyn LouElla Bucy. Please review._

**_Exinde: _**

_Act III. _

_In flagrante delicto _

_Caught In the Act_


	3. Act III

**Carpe Draconis**

**By miss sheree**

**Disclaimer: **This chapter has **not** been betaed.

**Act III.**

**_In flagrante delicto._**

_Caught In the Act_

He was running again. Running so fast that he was out of breath and turning a peculiar shade of red from the lack of oxygen, but he still ran. Knowing that stopping was not an option because that particular action would get him into thinking and he didn't believe he could stand the headache that would ensue when he started doing _that_ again. Nothing was making sense to him anyway and those blasted silver-grey eyes still haunted him with confusing thoughts and unsettling sensations. And he wasn't about to waste any more bloody time sitting around brooding over the whole thing when this night would probably be the last time he would have any hope in finding at least some of the answers to the many bewildering inquiries buzzing around his head. So he ran…

He was so focused on getting to his destination that he forgot all about using stealth. He even neglected to get his enchanted map in his desperate haphazard attempt to hunt the git down. For some reason, his feet knew where they were going although his mind would be damned if it knew how.

A flash of blonde. A shot of white.

_Is that Malfoy!_ Harry stared at the small figure that was plunging rapidly head first into the ground. But before his horrified reaction could be expressed audibly, the figure abruptly went on a full stop only to streak up a few seconds later straight into the sky. _Is that Slytherin crazy?_ Harry thought, aghast. _He could have killed himself with that stupid stunt! Of all the arrogant, most flamboyant things to do!_ He raged inwardly, completely missing the fact that he was actually more concerned Malfoy was endangering himself so recklessly than was proper for so called bitter rivals. He was about to 'accio' his firebolt and fly up there to give the stupid prick a piece of his mind when suddenly he heard something that made him forget all about killing Malfoy.

Someone was laughing. A sharp sound that hit the still air like a whip and then the biting sound faded into gales of innocent laughter, the kind that made anyone who heard it want to burst out with guffaws in kind. In fact, Harry's still lips twisted itself upwards a little on its own volition. He caught himself before any sound could come out since he was quite sure it would be detrimental to his health not to give into the impulse because if the Slytherin ever found out that he was out here stealing another personal moment he would be a dead man. But what could he do? He couldn't help it! He had never seen this side of the usually cold and aloof boy and it intrigued him. Harry shook his head as he ducked quickly behind an oak tree that was two feet away. He was positive that the reason of 'I couldn't help it' would not help his case with Malfoy at all if he found him.

_He's beautiful._ The startling thought invaded his mind as his dazed emerald eyes stared at the recklessly graceful boy flying above and it escaped his notice until he had all but thought of it. Did he just think that of bloody Malfoy? _Thump. Thump._ He bashed his head thoughtlessly on the tree he was hiding behind, forgetting for a minute that the purpose of his hiding there in the first place was because of his need for stealth. He stopped immediately when he saw from the corner of his eye that the Slytherin had stopped his haphazard flying in order to glance at what seemed to be his direction. Inwardly panicking and berating himself for his stupidity, Harry crouched lower behind the tree and he flattened himself against the undergrowth. Why on earth had he thought to come after Malfoy tonight? And since he had decided to indulge in asking himself stupid questions that would never be answered, why the hell did he think the ferret was _..choke__…_ beautiful?

Ron was right. Apparently thinking was dangerous to your health.

--------------------

Draco, after getting over his laughing fit, zoomed quickly overhead in a dizzying crisscrossing fashion. Hilarity and exhilaration was bubbling again inside him as he let himself relax. He soared into the open sky and let the darkness wrap around him like a magnificent cloak. He smiled warmly. It was always up here in the air where he found his freedom. Here he was liberated from the dark expectations of his family, duty to his upbringing and even the suffocating tension that was mounting inside the castle. The skies had always been his home and he had never felt as jubilant and alive as he did right now and it was only that one day that came even close to comparing…

**_flashback_**

"Look Uncwie Sevewus! I'm fwying!" a jubilant 5 year old Draco called excitedly to the frowning man on the ground.

"I can see that, Draco, but do be careful. Remember I'm just letting you fly a few feet off the ground. No higher. Keep both hands on the handle!" a nervous Severus reminded the boy as he anxiously followed him about the Manor's spacious lawn, cursing his damned weakness for his only godson.

Not wanting this wondrous experience to be taken from him, Draco happily nodded and stayed close to the ground. It was a miracle his godfather had agreed to teach him how to fly at all, especially without his father's permission. However, he had pestered the dark haired man ruthlessly this morning and the Potions Master finally gave in and he was now finally flying for the first time. To him, it was the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced and he silently worshipped his godfather for giving it to him.

Severus allowed a rare smile to grace his lips as he watched his beloved godson in all his innocent glory. Truth be told, even at this young age, Draco Malfoy was quite a hellion to begin with, already spoilt and arrogant but here in this one moment, away from Lucius' influence, he was able to get a glimpse of the young innocent child Draco truly was. His smile turned into a frown knowing that this innocence would soon be corrupted in the years to come and he would be powerless to stop it. Something painful squeezed his old heart. Some godfather he was.

A dull **THUMP** and a small "**Ouch**!" reached his ears and it was all it took for Severus to come running to where his godson had fallen. Cursing his idiocy in letting his mind wander, he rushed to the child in a panic. "Draco! Are you alright?" Severus asked worriedly. His observant eyes were searching the boy's little body for signs of injury and he gasped when he saw a huge gash on the child's left leg. He quickly pulled the boy closer to him as he gripped his wand but stopped when he felt the boy pulling away from him.

Draco raised his dirtied face and looked at his godfather. Why did he have to fall? He was surely in for it now. He sucked a deep breath as he felt his godfather grip his hand tightly and he started to pull away. "I-I'm sorry, Uncwe Sevewus. I didn't mean to fall."

Severus stiffened as he heard his godson's apology. "You need not apologize, child. I should have not let you fly at your age. It is I that should be sorry." Severus said gently, his tongue unused to speaking such loving words and yet he still tried. For truth be told, the little spoilt prince that was Draco Malfoy had long held a piece of his heart captive ever since the very first time he laid eyes on him. The boy was a perfect Slytherin even at this young age but he still held the pure innocence that all toddlers had.

Draco shook his head and started to pull away from his godfather. Certain that he had disgraced his beloved Uncwe Sevewus and this knowledge broke his little heart. Surely he would be punished now for his mistake and he would deserve it like he always did. After all he had yet again displayed actions unworthy of a Malfoy. He straightened his dirtied robes as best as he could and covered his bleeding leg as he made to go inside. His punishments always took place inside. Surely that is what his godfather would want that as well.

"Draco, where are you going? Your leg has not been healed yet. You shouldn't be walking around." Severus admonished him, slightly annoyed that the child was walking away from him without warning.

"I-I don't understand, Uncwe Sevewus?" Draco asked him nervously. Why would his godfather want to fix his leg? It was clear that his injured leg was due to his mistake and that he should suffer from it like always. After all, Malfoys don't allow accidents and thus should always carry the brunt of their actions.

Severus caught up with the boy and knelt beside him gently. "Child, I need to heal you first before you can walk around. After that you can go back inside if you want."

"But-but why?" Draco asked shakily, cautiously drawing back afraid he was going to be reprimanded for his curiosity…again.

"What do you mean why, Draco?" Severus asked, his eyes narrowing in horrifying suspicion.

Draco, sensing even at that young age that this was a volatile situation, swallowed his curiosity and shrugged letting the question go unanswered.

Knowing he was going to get nothing out of the boy when he shut down like this, Severus decided to let the matter drop and quickly healed the boy's leg. When it was done, he was startled to find himself caught under the adoring watery silver gaze of the Malfoy heir.

"Thenk wou." Draco whispered in awe at his godfather who had healed his aching leg and who had forgiven his mistake without being asked.

"You're quite welcome." Severus whispered in equal awe, astounded at the sheer gratitude that was shining in the depth of the child's eyes. Never had he seen that emotion in any descendant of the Malfoy name. He never knew that their family was capable of it until this one moment.

"I wuv yoo, Uncwe Sevewus." Draco said impulsively as he wrapped his arms around the man's bent figure.

Surprised at being touched, not to mention being in the receiving end of such tender words, Severus spluttered a little before answering, "I love you too, little Dragon."

And when they released each other, they walked back quietly inside the house with Draco content in his discovery that at least one person in his world was worth loving and Severus pleased in the knowledge that at least one Malfoy was worth saving.

_End of flashback_

Draco shook his head as he silently admonished himself for his foolish reminiscing. Now was not the time to dwell on childhood memories that had long ago faded. That image of his beloved godfather who had taught him how to fly had long been tainted, the knowledge of what his godfather was and where his allegiances lie had all but wiped out any hope that his Uncle Severus would come running to his rescue now and thus he knew there would be no help from that quarter. He sighed and took off higher into the skies. It seems that he was not fated to find peace this night and perhaps any other night as well.

**hpdm**

Harry still sat in a daze long after Malfoy had ceased his abrupt laughter. It's surprisingly sweet sound still echoing in his ears. He was suddenly filled with the inane urge to take up on his firebolt and join Malfoy in flight to find out for himself the cause for such wonderful hilarity. For if he could find it, Harry would surely bottle it up and present it to the Silver prince all the time. _Malfoy should do that more often._ Harry thought wistfully. Laughter like that renewed the soul and filled its audience with joy as well. Laughter like that should not be allowed to die out and be swallowed by the dark. _Finally a more worthwhile use for Malfoy's mouth._ Harry thought with a small smirk. _I'm sure that's not the only use you can find for his mouth_, a voice inside him chided. Harry closed his eyes as he felt himself go scarlet. _Shut up!_ He cried inwardly. Honestly where did these warped thoughts come from? It must be the sleep loss and the stress of the upcoming war! Yes! That was it! After all it couldn't be anything else! Right! He hurriedly reassured himself. Denial apparently was a long standing Potter tradition since he was able to bury himself in it so quickly and so well. Although he couldn't explain just why he had stood there hours after Malfoy had left still staring dazedly up the sky.

**hpdm**

Draco flew lazily around the night sky, still unwilling to come down hours after his ascent to the clouds. He couldn't bring himself to come down to reality just yet. Especially when he didn't have a proper plan. Slytherins were known, if not for their ruthless cunning, at least for their clever plans although the dratted evidence for that claim eluded him at the moment since he had yet to come up with one. A shining lamp from one of the windows on the upper floors caught his attention and he jerked when he realized he had strayed so far from the Quidditch Pitch. But perhaps his subconscious was merely voicing some of his unwanted thoughts and it had somehow led him here. Draco shook his head, never being one for such mysticism but so as long as he was here… What could it hurt really? Besides, at the most, he could finally learn if the old coot was indeed as crazy as a dancing banana.

However, he hesitated when he got to the massive gargoyle. It was already an ungodly hour and it was the last day of school surely the old man would be asleep or busy with preparations. Draco smirked suddenly when he realized he didn't care. Headmaster or not, Draco still had not found any reason to respect the man or his sensibilities. The old fogey lost that right the day he stole Slytherin's hard earned victory only to bestow it on his Golden Boy during his first year and his wariness grew each time Slytherin was slighted in favor for Dumbledore's former house. "So much for Gryffindor ethics." Draco muttered and suddenly he wasn't quite sure of what he was doing. Hadn't he just gone through a brief rerun of Dumbledore's prejudices against his own house? Why would this time be any different? How could he be sure that Dumbledore wouldn't turn him out on his rear when he began to ask suspicious questions about the war? Worse yet he might turn him to the Ministry or kill him outright in a fit of righteousness. After all, a dead future Death Eater wouldn't matter much in this side of the world, right?

"Mr. Malfoy. Do you wish to see me?" a gentle voice cut violently into his morbid thoughts.

"Mrpkle!" Draco choked in an undignified manner as he whirled around, thoroughly caught unaware for the second time in a day. Calling himself ten kinds of fool and quickly composing himself all the while ignoring the annoying twinkle in the headmaster's eyes, he managed a more eloquent reply. "Yes, sir, that is if you have the time?" he inquired politely. A Malfoy, after all, is anything but unfailing polite to his elders even if said elder was one card short of a full deck.

More delighted twinkling can be seen. "Of course. Come in." the headmaster ushered as he pulled out a confectionary from his disgustingly yellow robes. "Lemon drops?" he proffered to the Malfoy heir.

Draco wrinkled his nose slightly in distaste but took the offending sweet anyway. After all, he wanted this meeting to go as quickly and smoothly as possible. He might as well take pains not to offend the man now that he was here. "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore waved off his thanks and motioned to the chair allocated in front of his desk. "What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?" He intoned, his twinkling eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Well, he could hardly blame him. After all, a known escaped Death Eater's son seeking him out at the dead of the night was hardly ordinary but still he hesitated on what to tell him. After all an explanation with the words "I've been shopping for my calling. I've heard the other side's benefits, what about yours?" was hardly substantial. But still he came for a reason so he hedged his bets and said as primly as possible, "I require your assistance with procuring some knowledge I need to acquire."

"Oh?" Dumbledore merely raised his eyebrow as his eyes' twinkling rose to new heights and this irritated Draco to no end. Honestly was the man trying to blind him?

"Yes, he plundered on as he swallowed his irritation with difficulty, I feel you are the only one with the appropriate knowledge and if you decide to participate I ask that you answer truthfully and that this meeting be held in confidence."

"Anything you say of course, Mr. Malfoy, is going to be held in the strictest confidence. These are the rules of student-teacher confidentiality." Dumbledore explained, willing to alleviate the anxiousness the young man was displaying. His instincts had been telling him all day that something important was about to transpire this night and this just might be it.

Draco shook his head. "I know all that but this supercedes that confidentiality. I am afraid I must insist on a more concrete proof to this secrecy. I want a Wizard's pact."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose as he heard this. This was indeed serious if the Malfoy heir wanted a magic pact of secrecy, not to mention, one of honesty as well. This might be very interesting indeed. "And to what purpose would this serve, Mr. Malfoy? What is it that you want to know that requires such level of secrecy and truth?" he asked.

Draco remained tightlipped, unwilling to divulge anything further that can harm him. "You will find out soon enough, sir. That's if you so wish." He knew he was taking a chance by bullying the man into a Wizard's Pact but what else could he do? His whole life might be on line if even a single whiff of this comes back to his father. Plus this would take care of all the niggling doubts he had because after this neither of them could speak of this meeting to anyone at all.

To his astonishment, the old nutter actually agreed and with quick agile movements unheard of for a hundred fifty year old man, he had already set the things they needed for the ritual. And as the headmaster started to make the runic arrangements for the pact, Draco couldn't help but think to himself that his already odd night was about to get more interesting.

**_Perrectum_****_…_**

_This chapter is dedicated to the memory of my favorite hpdm author, Michael Serpent. Be at peace. You are missed._

**_Exinde_**

_Act II. _

_Ubi dubium, ibi libertas_

_"Where there is doubt, there is freedom."_


	4. Act IV

**Carpe Draconis**

**by Aoife Malfoy **

**Act IV. **

**Ubi dubium, ibi libertas.**

_"Where there is doubt, there is freedom."_

Draco peeked over the rim of his goblet in apprehension to where the Headmaster was mixing his own concoction in preparation of the Wizard's Pact. He would never admit it but his hand was shaking badly from anxiety as conflicting thoughts flickered through his mind. Was he doing the right thing? Should he back out of it now? No! He had to do this! It was the only way to be sure. Plus the Pact would ensure that his secrets stay safe. Even someone as powerful as Albus Dumbledore could not break such a sacred rite and even then the old coot would probably be too much of a Gryffindor to use it against him.

"Are you ready, Mr. Malfoy?" The professor asked with a gentle smile, his eyes for once absent of that damnable twinkling.

Draco swallowed this nervousness down and replied, "Yes, sir."

"Very well. Do you Draco Lucien Malfoy consent to enter into a Wizard's Pact with Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore?" Dumbledore intoned with a slight smile.

_Damn! How many names can one person have? _Draco thought incredulously as he heard the headmaster's full name. His incredulity must have shown on his face for the professor cracked a small smile at him. Flushing and clearing his throat for being caught acting like an imbecilic child; he struggled to return the atmosphere back to its original somberness. After all a wizard's pact was nothing to laugh at. "I do and do you Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore consent to enter into a Wizard's Pact with Draco Lucien Malfoy?" Draco managed to reply with a straight face although it was hard. _Honestly! Wulfric? What kind of sadistic bastards would name their child such a thing?_

"I do." Dumbledore answered as he reached for his cup while Draco did the same and they both drank the cup in unison.

Draco winced as he felt the mixture work its way down his gullet, its cohesive texture making it difficult to swallow.

"Very well then." Dumbledore said as he set aside his cup, smiling and looking for all the world like he just drank a most delectable sweet. Draco wrinkled his nose. _I should have known his taste in drink would match the one he has for clothing._ He thought in distaste as he surveyed once again the man's canary yellow robes

"How about we take turns answering each other's questions? This way both of us will have the answers we require tonight." Dumbledore's words broke through Draco's chain of thought. He hastily nodded his head and began to think of the many questions he needed answers to and how to word them without giving too much of himself away.

"Alright. How about you go first, Mr. Malfoy, since you seem to have a lot on your mind." Albus offered graciously, wanting this meeting to have a favorable outcome, for truth be told, he had always wanted a chance to sway this particular student from the path he seemed set to take.

Draco shrugged and took this chance that was offered to him, anxious to get this over with but still extremely wary of whom he was talking to. Merlin knows he had never felt comfortable speaking to this man and so he asked as vaguely as the truth serum in the pact would allow him, "Say that someone I know wanted shelter from you, would you be willing to provide it? And if so, under what terms?" He inwardly groaned after the question left his lips for he knew he didn't fool anybody with that phrasing, let alone the original Savior of the Wizarding World. _Smooth, Draco, Real Smooth._ He berated himself.

As if to validate Draco's thoughts, the old fool smiled with that expression he only used when he was extremely amused with something, which in this case would be Draco's discomfort. "Mr. Malfoy, there is no need to be so evasive. We are under a wizard's pact as you well know. Let the truths spoken be complete ones for I assure you neither one of us can speak of this to anyone else."

Draco nodded sharply, his cheeks still tinged with a flush of embarrassment. _Damn that old coot for having his astute moments! _Draco thought harshly.

Still smiling, Albus answered, "I would welcome anyone into my protection so as long as they are not actively working for Voldemort."

Draco flinched at the name and raised his eyebrow skeptically. "And your terms? Do they need to be current students? Do they need to be unmarked? Come from certain bloodlines? Muggle? Squib? Belong to a particular House? Have a strong affinity for rescuing small kittens and kicked puppies?"

Chuckling under his breath, that damned twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes reappeared. "No, my boy, nothing as exacting as that. I mean it exactly as how I phrased it. Anyone, no matter what house, what blood, what personality, what temperament or what ink they have on their skin is welcome to any sanctuary I can provide so long as they are not serving the Dark."

Still doubtful of what he was hearing, Draco sneered. "Do you really mean that, sir? You would even take under your wing a marked Death Eater who has surely done many atrocious acts in service of the Dark Lord? You would trust such a person with the safety of others? Of your precious Order?"

Dumbledore nodded in response to his alarmed prodding. "Yes. After the necessary precautions, of course. Veritaserum and a questioning."

Astounded at the sheer lunacy of Dumbledore's trusting ways, Draco gasped, "That is insanity! How can you just forget the Death Eater's past?"

The headmaster shook his head, "I am not forgetting it, Mr. Malfoy. I am more than aware of what Death Eaters are capable of when in the service of their master. However, I have always strongly believed that it is our choices that show what we truly are rather than our abilities. And their choice to leave his service forever surpasses any apology they could ever utter."

"You truly believe that, don't you?" Draco asked, his mind unable to wrap itself around a concept that sounded so ridiculously naive.

"Yes." Albus answered simply as he watched the Malfoy heir for a moment, delighted that the boy was willing to ask questions about a side that was not his own. Seizing the moment, he moved to ask his own question, "If you had a choice would you take the mark?"

Draco looked up abruptly, startled by Dumbledore's question. He thought the leader of the Light would seize this opportunity to interrogate him about his father's nefarious plans or something of that nature. "N-no." The potion forced him to answer although he was gritting his teeth quite hard so that anything unfiltered by his mind would not escape but ultimately giving in to the power of the Pact. "I would not." Draco said softly, his words tinged with a sadness that he could not suppress and that he chastised himself for.

"Ah. I see. It is a most difficult decision to make." Dumbledore replied somberly and Draco was glad to find no trace of rancor in his tone.

He was also a bit surprised that the headmaster had not gone on to give him a whole lecture about morality and righteousness, of hell and fire and brimstone. How curious. He thought by now Dumbledore would be trying to change him and turn him to his side until he was blue in the face. That was why he blurted out, "Why aren't you talking me into joining you?"

The professor shook his head. "That is something I do not do, Mr. Malfoy. If you decide to join us, it would be because of your disposition and for your reasons. There will be no changing, no twisting of any kind. If you decide your lot is with me, I will welcome you as yourself. A Malfoy, a Slytherin, a Pureblood aristocrat, son of Lucius, but most importantly as Draco. May I call you that, my boy?"

Draco nodded distractedly, his thoughts still swirling like a maelstrom inside his brain. Dumbledore would accept him? All of him? He highly doubted that but the potion they drank was a strong one and was properly prepared. It would not allow any lies. But the thought was too foreign to him. No one has ever done him that favor so he had no predilection to think it was even possible.

"Draco? Draco? Are you alright?" a voice tinged with something that sounded a lot like concern entered his bewildered thoughts. _Get a grip!_ He growled inwardly as he pulled himself together. "Yes, Headmaster?" He replied, hoping to Merlin he didn't sound as confused as he felt.

"You looked a bit off for a second there and it is your turn to ask a question again." Albus said evenly, his forehead still furrowed with concern over the visibly shaken boy.

"Oh. Um well. Why did you steal Slytherin's victory and hand it to the Gryffindors at the Leave-taking Feast my first year?" Draco asked curiously, his mind latching on to this disturbing memory so as to ease itself away from the bewildering thoughts that this conversation was producing.

"It was because the individuals did truly deserve it. Although they broke the rules, they did postpone Voldemort's rising. However, I must admit to a lack of tact at having it done in such a manner that hurt your House. It was my mistake." Albus said apologetically.

Unsure of this revelation, Draco just nodded his head. Dumbledore's acceptance of fallibility was not something he was accustomed to since his world was always filled with absolutely powerful fathers and all knowing Dark Lords. Plundering on, he blurted out, "Do you like me?" _Holy Hell! Where did that asinine question come from?_ Draco thought bemusedly, his mind already taking pains to find a way to take it back.

"Your actions in the past have certainly been anything but affable, however, I really don't know you well enough to form any reliable judgment, Draco. But if you would have given me the opportunity to rectify that, it would be a chance I would have very much liked to take." Albus said softly, afraid to break this curious bond that he seemed to be forming with the previously aloof boy.

Stunned at such tender proclamation, one that was probably undeserved, Draco choked back an emotional reply and he forced himself to ignore the olive branch that was proffered. It was too late anyway. Tomorrow he will leave this institution and any hope of exoneration or any other such sappy sentiment was clearly lost. Not unless he somehow found the monumental courage it would take to defy his father. The headmaster had alleviated his concerns regarding seeking sanction. However, he had yet to find enough impetus to do the thing that would require him to need such protection, he was as uncertain about that as he ever was.

So with great reluctance, he changed the topic of the conversation again and said. "My apologies, I have been monopolizing the questions. I believe I owe you two turns."

A tinge of sadness stirred in Albus' heart but he held it at bay as he was not yet willing to let his opportunity to get closer to this student go. "No need for apologies, Draco." He paused as he tried to think of a way to express his next query without causing the boy to withdraw further away from him. "Did you know your father was a Death Eater?"

Draco sneered as he heard the question_. I knew it! I knew he wouldn't be able to resist asking me questions about Father and the Dark Lord! It was foolish of me to think that he would find any use for me otherwise. _He thought angrily; mad at himself for even remotely warming up to the man. It didn't matter. Whatever he said here could not be used against him. "Yes." He answered curtly, his eyes once again frosting with bitterness and detachment.

"Did you know what that meant?" Albus asked softly, his heart sinking a bit more at the resurgence of the cold mask the Malfoy heir usually donned but had lost earlier in the conversation.

"I knew he was serving the Dark Lord if that is what you mean." Draco replied haughtily, careful to mask the confusion that Dumbledore's odd question incited.

Albus nodded and clarified, "I know that but did you know of the many atrocious acts that he committed while doing so?"

Eyebrows furrowed in the attempt to figure out where Dumbledore was leading to, he answered, "Well, not really. He just, you know, mostly taught me some cool magic and stuff. You know things that were not going to be taught here. He didn't he really talked about it to me."

"Ah." Albus rubbed his beard absently. "He taught you the Dark Arts."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course he did. Who do you think we are, the Weasleys? Besides, not all spells from the Dark Arts are evil. You know better than I do that it is the intent of the caster that determines its immorality. After all, didn't you kill Grindelwald with a Light Arts curse?"

Albus nodded with a smile. "Yes. I know and it is good that you keep that in mind as well. A spell is only evil if its purpose is to harm innocents."

"Why doesn't Hogwarts teach spells that are considered Dark Arts then? If you had just as well agreed with me that they aren't necessary evil in nature?" Draco asked with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow.

"Because, Draco, knowledge is power and knowledge in the hands of a typical hormonally driven child is not something I would risk under any circumstances." Albus said somberly.

"You think too little of your students." Draco said brusquely, a bit incensed at being described as a _hormonally driven child_. _Honestly! He's one to talk with his candy themed passwords and infantile colored robes!_

Albus shook his head. "I give them credit where credit is due. The greatest test of character, Draco, is not adversity but power. Give a man power and you will see even the lightest wizard stray from his path. I dare not burden those which I love with something so harmful."

_Sentimental old fool._ Draco thought, unwilling to let his guard down again. "I have no more questions. Shall we conclude this pact?" Draco said hastily, suddenly itching to get out of the room and find some place to be alone to think. Because fool or not, Dumbledore had sparked many thoughts and questions in his mind, he wanted some much needed time to think them over.

Smiling sadly, Albus nodded and with a quick flick of his hand, the desk was cleared. Then in unison with Draco, he intoned, "I grant this pact sealed and ended."

Draco stood and made to take his leave when Dumbledore's voice stopped him.

"I know it is your choice, Draco and your choice alone. But I implore you for your sake not to go with him. I know I cannot even fathom what it would take to do such a thing so I will spare you the hypocrisy, but in situations like these, any choice would require a sacrifice. It would do well to remember to pick the one you can live with. Also, I would very much like to ask you to join my side. Your talent for potions amongst others is an asset to any faction. I offer you a choice, Draco, because I can see that there is something within you that is very special. And so long as I see it in you, my boy, I will keep offering it to you."

Draco nodded and smiled thinly at the man's words but before he swept out of the room, he looked back and acknowledged him. "I don't know what I will do come tomorrow but for what it's worth, I'm grateful to be asked."

Albus Dumbledore smiled and the infamous twinkling in his azure eyes resumed its dance as he thought. _There might be hope for that Malfoy boy- no. _He corrected himself_, for Draco yet._

_Perrectum._

**Exinde:**

_Patris est pars filius._

A father is part of the son.

**AN:** I would love to know what you thought! Please review.


	5. Act V

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy   
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU, No HBP Spoilers. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.  
**Author's note:** This story is not fast paced.  
**Beta:** the lovely micole  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?

**Act V**

**Patris est pars filius.**

_A father is part of the son._

Draco was walking aimlessly through the corridors, his mind weighed down by the conflicting thoughts that were generated by his meeting with Dumbledore. Although, it did not make choosing easier, it did lessen a tiny shred of apprehension that he was having about possibly joining that side. At least he knew without a doubt that at least one friendly face would welcome him if he ever needed their shelter. Plus he had a startling new insight into the crazy old headmaster that he was taught to hate. He found out to his complete surprise that the man was not half bad even if he did occasionally test the bounds of sane behavior. Though he may not understand Albus Dumbledore and he prayed he never did because that would definitely mean he had gone round the bend, he still respected the wizard and could forgive him slightly for his curious quirks.

He had been walking for quite some time now and so when he looked up to notice he was standing near the seventh floor, he was quite surprised. He was turning to make his way back when suddenly he heard something. A dull noise like the scraping of a shoe. Sighing in frustration and a bit of anger, he balled his fists to the side and gripped his wand. Then nonchalantly, he stepped forward, careful to be listening for the same sound as he did so. When he heard it again, he pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned casually against the stone wall beside him.

"Merlin! It's not an Invisibility _and_ a Silencing Cloak, Potter! If you must insist on following me everywhere tonight at least silence your damnable footsteps like any half decent wizard with a semi operational brain would! I pray for your side's sake that this war does not need to be won by your stealth!" He said through clenched teeth as he continued to rub soothing circles on his forehead.

A shimmer of light later and then the figure of a violently blushing Harry Potter could be seen. Harry was mortified that he'd been caught obsessively stalking Malfoy since he finally managed a glimpse of him coming down the hallway two hours ago. But he strengthened his resolve and pushed his embarrassment and rising panic away. "I-er-I just wanted to talk to you." He managed to stammer out, uncertain about what he was going to say but the need to say something surprisingly strong. He hadn't given up on Malfoy yet.

"Yes, of course and stalking me invisibly is so the way to do that. By all means, continue, shall I walk away now and pretend you're not there so we can continue this bizarre and idiotic Gryffindor social exercise?"

Clenching his teeth together, Harry said tersely, "Can't you be nice for once?"

Draco scowled, even more incensed now that his time alone was intruded upon once more by the Boy Who Lived to Torture him with Stupid Questions. "Of course I can be. I am the epitome of culture and civility.' He sneered and then added, "But not to you."

Harry growled. "Why is that? Why can you be decent to everyone but me? You've been pretty withdrawn since sixth year and you've pretty much refrained from being 'your oh so lovely insulting self' to everyone even Hermione and Ron whom I know you've always hated a great deal. What with all that '_Die Mudblood die'_ and '_Pureblood traitor scum_' rubbish you used to spout when we were younger. So why is that when it comes to me, it's still '_piss off, Scarhead_?' Why can't we be friends? Or at least non-threatening acquaintances?"

Draco rolled his eyes, already bored with the conversation. "I told you this already and I see no reason to repeat myself. So if you would kindly, as you so eloquently put it, 'Piss off, Scarhead!' I will go merrily on my way to plot misdeeds and nefarious undertakings since apparently your already swollen head has inflated to even more epic proportions because of my non-hating ways leading you to believe that you are more than just the number two-thousand three-hundred thirty-third person I can't stand."

Harry snorted, "I will always be more than just a person you dislike, Malfoy. You told me that yourself earlier."

Draco snarled as he remembered that asinine conversation he had with the bespectacled Prat Who Lived and the subsequent lapse of sanity that had taken place shortly after. Why is it that this boy always managed to make him look and act like an imbecile? He clenched his fists. What was it about this shoddy classless half-blood that made him feel like no matter what he did he would never be worth even a tenth of the Wizarding World's resident savior? Ever since he met Potter, he had felt like he was trapped yet again underneath another shadow. It was bad enough that he was constantly overlooked and ignored as others seek past him and onto his father but to have the same thing happen over and over again with this mere slip of a boy? He shook with mortification and anger. He had actually forgotten about that little episode and would have gladly kept it that way but here was a living breathing, not to mention, infuriating reminder of that exchange. And it snapped the already tenuous hold he had on his patience, his temper ignited and it was enough to spur him into violence. Growling like a cornered animal, he balled his fists and drove one into the Gryffindor's gut. Harry, for his part, was too surprised by the Slytherin's unexpected reaction that all he could do was take the brunt of the hit and stagger backwards. He promptly saw stars as Draco drove his knee into Harry's jaw, making his head hit the stone wall soundly.

Seizing his wand and holding it up painfully against the taller boy's jugular, Draco growled ferociously. "You don't know me, Potter and you never will. No matter which side of the war I manage to fall on. It makes no difference. I will always be your enemy. Stop trying to change that!"

Harry groaned and Draco intensified the pressure he was putting on his captive's esophagus. "Don't try to 'save me' either. I am not one of your pathetic little pet projects! I will do as I please just like I have always done and if I am to be a Death Eater then so be it!"

Harry coughed a bit as his throat tried to lessen the pressure that was being put upon it. "So that's it? You're just going to follow dear old daddy's footsteps and become a Death Eater? Do you even know what that means, you stupid pillock? It means the end to your arrogant spoiled ways of doing as you please because then you'd have pledged your life to do Voldemort's every bidding, bowing and kissing the hem of his robes. It means having to murder people, Malfoy! Fathers, sons, daughters, wives and babies whose only sin was to be born to the wrong family. It means that one day I will be expected to fight and ultimately kill Voldemort's followers and when I do, Malfoy, when I finally have to use magic to harm rather than protect, I-I don't want it to be you."

Draco made a frustrated noise at the back of his throat as he pushed away from the Gryffindor. "Well too bad, St. Potty, because I have no such qualms about it! Stay away from me. I don't need your help or your insipid advice about my career options! And even if I find myself indeed trapped and helpless, I can very well save myself!"

Incensed by Malfoy's sheer superciliousness, Harry managed to find the strength to lunge at his captor and they both tumbled painfully down the hard ground. Using this momentum, Harry pinned the surprised Slytherin down securely. "You, arrogant bastard! You have no idea what it's like! You think it's just something you can easily walk away from? Just a '_No, thank you, Voldemort, the robes would clash with my skin'_ and you're free to go? He'll come for you! He'll make you beg. He'll own you!" Harry spat furiously, angered that the smug wanker was just brushing off his warnings.

Equally enraged, Draco replied. "I know that, you fucking twit! Who do you think my father is? You have no right to preach to me about this no matter what you have seen in your oh so tragic orphaned life! You couldn't possibly understand because you are from a different world. You are kept in a place where everything is bright, good and simple. Where smoldering temptation does not exist and doesn't hiss at your ear every day promising great things. Where everything is black and white and there is no room for grey. Where your choices do not require a sacrifice." Draco panted angrily as he glowered up at the self righteous idiot. "You live in a world where this choice is easy and that is why I won't ever listen to anything you have to say!"

Time seemed to stand still as both boys were riveted in their place. Harry dared not even breathe too loudly so afraid was he to break the charged silence that followed Draco's emotional proclamation and for one bittersweet moment Harry Potter caught a glimpse of how it was to be Draco Malfoy.

And he was captivated. He had been stuck on the image of the sullen and spoiled pointy-faced git who had taunted him for years that now that he was faced with reality, the realization quite rightly bit him in the arse. Gone was the mocking brat of old, instead he saw this lost young man who reminded him quite strongly of himself. And then another realization dawned on him that perhaps the reason why this boy seemed so different was that because he wasn't looking at Malfoy any more. For the first time since the day he met him, Harry felt he was finally catching a glimpse of _Draco_.

Disgusted at himself for letting Potter get to him yet again and having divulge so much of himself, Draco closed his eyes to avoid looking at the twit who was still pining him to the ground. Gritting his teeth when he noticed that the silly arse wasn't letting him up anytime soon, he decided to take matters into his own hands and pushed the boy, only to find the lumbering idiot to be immovable. "Get off!" He grunted as he once again made to push Potter off when he noticed something peculiar. The git's face was looming alarmingly closer than was absolutely proper and necessary!

Entranced and more than a little dumbfounded by his epiphany, Harry didn't notice he was leaning unconsciously closer to that enigmatic face until…

_THUMP!_

Harry blinked blearily as he tried to gather his wits about him. He raised his aching head just in time to see that trademark shock of blond hair hurriedly disappear around the corner. Groaning, he rubbed his sore head, he cursed Malfoy for hexing him so hard. Honestly! He was going to get off him in a second! It wasn't as if he was enjoying that wiry body beneath his, squirming and writhing under him as the blond tried to roll the pressing weight off himself. He wasn't intrigued at all by the flush that stained the boy's pale cheeks that crept all the way down his neck until it disappeared into the Slytherin's crisp white shirt. Harry blushed red at his thoughts. Really, it wasn't that at all…

**The next day…**

Draco stared gloomily at his plate. He had arrived early for breakfast, hoping to avoid as much people as he could but he was dismayed when he found the Great Hall already teeming with students although the professors were still absent. However, it did make sense since this would be the one of their last meals of the year at Hogwarts. He looked around surreptitiously as he studied the people around him.

Sickeningly happy faces were everywhere and wherever he looked he could see girls hugging each other, promising to owl everyday after graduation (_He snorted. After a year they would probably forget each other's names_.), lovers kissing passionately (_He looked away in disgust. Honestly, some people have no shame._) and boys slapping each other's back merrily (_He rolled his eyes. How juvenile.)_ He had barely swallowed his urge to scream. Did somebody cast an Obliviation spell on everyone? Have they all forgotten that there was a war going on and when they leave the safety of these castle walls they're as good as dead? How can they be so disgustingly happy knowing that today was the day they say goodbye to their childhood? That today was the last day they get to be seventeen? Did they forget that tomorrow some people would be thrown into a war they never wanted nor cared for? That tomorrow these people that they were hugging, kissing and back slapping might end up dead?

Draco shook his head in disgust. Fools all of them! Now he knew why every Slytherin seemingly ended up joining the other side, the members of the light were all simpering idiots! A figure caught his eye and what he saw made him feel a tiny bit better. At least Potter seemed to know for he looked exactly like how Draco felt. Utterly wretched. The Golden Boy knew the importance of this day and it made him rescind slightly (_just slightly, mind_.) his opinion of the light side. At least their appointed leader wasn't as stupid as the rest of them.

Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of thoughts about the prat, the incident from last night still fresh in his mind. Honestly what the hell was that ninny trying to do? Potter probably wanted to unsettle him enough to attack him when he let his guard down. Or better yet it might have been another ploy of the Savior of the Wizarding World to persuade him into switching sides. Draco snorted. At least he looked as bad as Draco felt. A twinge of vindictive smugness squeezed his heart; the bastard must also still be feeling the sting of his refusal. _Ha! Take that, you stupid self righteous knob!_ He thought with glee.

A commotion at the back of the room drew everyone's attention as the heavy doors of the Great Hall opened with a bang. Lucius Malfoy, dressed in all his refined glory and looking like he never spent a day in Azkaban, stood proudly by the doorway. Once he was sure every single eye in the room was looking at him, he began to make his way to the Slytherin table, his cold eyes affixed on his only son as he ignored everyone else.

"What's he doing here?" Ron gasped loudly as Lucius made his way past the Gryffindor table where the Golden Trio sat. "Isn't he supposed to be in Azkaban where he belongs?" He commented brashly, his freckled face burning red with anger.

Lucius stopped as Ron's question reached his ears. He turned gracefully towards the trio, his eyes narrowing in disgust. "Red hair, freckled face, ratty robes and subhuman intelligence. Another Weasley, I presume? Why your must parents procreate like bunnies for I always seem to have the misfortune of encountering one of you wherever I go."

Ron growled low in his throat and made to lunge at the insufferable ponce but Harry's grip on his arm would not relent. "Let me at him, Harry. It's the last day of school and I don't think I'd get expelled for decking an escaped criminal!"

"Ah, but haven't you heard, Weasley? The Ministry has given me not only a full pardon but also an apology for my wrongful imprisonment." Lucius smirked evilly, enjoying the further reddening on the Weasley boy's face and the hardening gaze of the Boy Who Lived.

"That's not possible." Harry spoke up for the first time since the elder Malfoy had arrived. "You were captured along with the other Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. I saw you working for Voldemort!" he shouted, his anger rising with each word.

"Ah but you forget that the Dark Lord has a very strong penchant for the use of Imperius on poor innocent individuals such as myself." Lucius drawled with a nasty smile.

"Liar! That's not true! I saw you!" Harry bellowed in outrage.

Lucius sneered as he once again turned his back on them. "Obviously, they believe otherwise."

Bastard! Harry growled. He couldn't believe it! The Ministry has failed the Wizarding World again! How could they believe Lucius' lies?

Draco paled when he saw his father framed in the door way. _Shit! This can't be happening! _He thought desperately as he stared in horror as his father made his way to him. He had thought that he would be spared at least a few days before finding a solution to his dilemma but now his hand was being forced_. Damn Potter! The one thing he was good for and he mucked it up! It figures that the fucking Golden Boy would fail even in this endeavor! _Draco cursed Potter in his mind none too kindly. It was the only time that the Boy Wonder proved to be useful and he botched it! Now he was going to be forcefully marked earlier than planned. _Bloody Hell! Get a fucking grip, Draco!_ He berated himself inwardly. It wouldn't do to loose his cool now after all this time, especially in front of his father who would surely strike him dead if there was even a suspicion that Draco had doubts about his nefarious future. Scanning the Head Table, he cursed inwardly when he saw that it was empty. What a day for the headmaster to indulge in a little lie in! He could really use the old wizard's help right now because after the conversation he had with him last night, he knew the man would help stall Lucius in someway. _Think, Draco, think!_ He chided himself when he saw that his father was being detained by the Golden Trio. He looked longingly at the exit doors. How he wished he could run back to his dorms and never come out but that would lead to an even more painful and slower death as it would disgrace the Malfoy name and brand him as a coward so it was out of the question. Besides he had to face his father sooner or later and it seems that the latter had come to pass.

He was now at the fork in the road and it was time for his path to be chosen.

_Perrectum._

**Exinde:**

_Alea iacta est_

The die is cast.

**AN: **Thank you to all the fans of this arc! I really needed that kick in the arse! LOL Still do actually since it's the only way to keep me going:)

Love it? Hate it? Comments are love!


	6. Act VI

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy  
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Rating: **NC-17 for violence  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU. Written before HBP. No HBP Spoilers. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.  
**Beta:** the lovely micolerose  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?   
**Author's note:** The words written in _italics _are words spoken in French.

**Act VI.**

**Alea****iacta est**

_The die is cast_

"Father." Draco stood as he inclined his head towards the Patriarch.

Without even bothering to greet his son back, Lucius motioned imperiously with his cane, "Come Draco. We leave now. I trust all your things are packed? You need not stay here a second longer."

"But the Leaving Feast-" Draco started to ask, hoping he could stall the inevitable.

"Is nothing but hogwash! Don't mean to tell me you want to attend such an insipid service? Besides you know very well there is somewhere we must be." Lucius snapped, irritation lining his face at being delayed on his task.

"Yes, Father." Draco replied wearily, his head bowed as he moved away from his house table, following slowly after his father and feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Draco willed himself to be numb, to slip on the mask he had donned since he was small. He almost managed it until he made the mistake of looking up and his silver gaze instantly locked on earnest emerald eyes that were staring at him and he was lost. Those eyes were saying something that their owner had already said. _Don't go! Don't follow him! You're worth more than that! _And for some reason they had reached him where saving words had failed to. Suddenly he felt like he could do this. If Potter could stand up to the Dark Lord year in and year out, how could he not find the strength to say 'no' to his father in this instance? Those jade eyes that burned with desperation had fueled his courage and his resolve to finally do something he had only thought of within the relative safety of his dreams.

"No." A soft voice whispered and in the silence that had prevailed since Malfoy Senior's appearance, it carried over and was heard by all and sundry.

"What do you mean "no"? Hurry up now! We have somewhere we need to be!" Lucius scowled and prodded his son a bit more with his cane.

"What I meant to say, Father, is that I cannot go with you. I know that the 'place' you are taking me to is not somewhere I want to be." His voice soft and although his grey eyes were flashing with defiance, he still took pains not to implicate the older Malfoy. The man was still his father after all.

"I have no idea what you're prattling on about, _son_." Lucius gritted through his teeth. "I merely want you to go with me and visit your _frail_ and _ailing _mother. She does seem very anxious to see her only son. Do you wish to forsake her needs for your frivolous activities?"

Ignoring his father's blatant lies, Draco shook his head ruefully. "Father, you misunderstand. I am making a choice. Something I have been forestalling since earlier this year. Something that I have recently found the courage to do." His voice clear and a sad smile on his lips. "I trust you to take care of her in the event that I could not." He whispered softly and it was a plea, a promise and a threat all at once. It broke his heart to watch his father's face become etched in disappointment and twist into anger by what he would consider as his heir's betrayal.

Raising an eyebrow, Lucius admonished him, his nostrils flaring in anger. "Might I remind you that you are still not of age and my _son_. You will do as I wish!"

"_Père, comprenez s'il vous plaît_!" Draco cried out in desperation, switching to his native tongue. His pride unwilling to let the entire Great Hall become privy to matters that weren't anybody's business but their own. If he must beg to be given a chance to carry out his choice then he would take it but he will not suffer airing their family's business so crudely. It wasn't meant for secrecy by any means for surely more than a handful of people that were currently in the Great Hall could speak French but rather to save as much dignity as he could, no matter how small. At least the majority of the populace would be ignorant to seeing his downfall first hand.

"_Do you know what you're asking_?" Lucius snarled as he advanced on his wayward son.

"_Yes. I am asking for a chance, father. Something that I did not think I was entitled to until recently. I can't do it, Father. I am not a killer. You know that more than most. How many times have you tried teaching me the Killing curse? How many times have I disappointed you with my inability to cast it? I'm not a murderer and if I am branded as one of his followers that is all I will ever be_."

"_Are you defying me, Draco_?" Lucius asked coldly, his face a mask of cold rage. "_Are_ _you sure you can pay the price for such a thing_?"

"_It is not my wish to defy you, Father."_ Draco answered softly. "_You have always been the axis of my world. The sun sets and rises by your will. I love you. I respect you. You will always be my father, although to you I might not always be your son_."

Sneering, Lucius spat. "_You are aware_ _then that disobeying me will cost you all that you are? Stripped of title, of money, of prestige and of name_?"

"_Yes_." He replied quietly and calmly, although it pained him greatly to do so.

"_Will it be worth it_?" Lucius asked in clipped tones. His face still a mask of anger but his eyes softening with a curious emotion that Draco couldn't name.

"_I honestly__don't know. But I am certain that the alternative option is not a price I am willing to pay_." Draco said resolutely.

Scoffing, Lucius tightened his grip on his cane. "_Will you lie then with these mongrels? Will you fight for their cause and slay your friends in the heat of battle? All because you are too cowardly to take power when it is rightfully yours? You disgust me_."

A part of Draco died at that. He had been hoping naively that somehow this confrontation would end without him having to witness the death of his relationship with his father but here it was unfolding horrifically. Choking back a wounded sob, Draco managed not to flinch. "_No. I stand alone. I don't wish to enter this war, Father! I want to live my days out until I'm old and weary, away from all of this!"_

"_Then you are a coward, Draco. A coward and a ridiculous dreamer! You stand in the precipice of a war that has been raging on for more than twenty years. You think there is any surface on Earth where you can hide from it? Do you really think you can be happy standing idly by as war rages on around you? I didn't think I raised a fool! You only have two options, boy! You either side with me or with them. And for your sake, I hope you choose the right one." _Lucius ranted as he moved closer to his heir.

Shaking with anxiety and anger, Draco raged. "_Then I cast my lot with them! For they would never expect a boy to become a murderer of innocent people! They would never force their son to be marked for slavery! They would never bow in front of a deranged and delusional madman! Malfoys don't bow, father! Have you forgotten?" _His anger ignited by his father's inherent stubbornness and unwillingness to leave his mad obsession.

Lucius raised his cane deftly and for a second Draco thought he was going to be struck but instead it landed heavily on his shoulder. "_Do not speak to me in that insolent tone, child. I am still your father. If you will not suffer through my demands then I will take your life. After all, it is still mine. I created you, Draco. I can take what I have given." _

Draco smiled warily then and chuckled sarcastically_. "It is ironic then for while you've always spoiled me and never hit me as a child that you kill me now without a second thought. For you might be a petty, vindictive man to most, but never to me_."

Lucius took the remaining strides that separated them and stood only an inch away from his son. Draco, in the meantime, forced himself not to move. He had prepared himself for the event that his father in his fury, might hurt him. However, it didn't wound him any less now that it was actually happening. He had held out hope that his father wouldn't go through such lengths. Perhaps he was indeed a dreamer and a fool for believing Lucius Malfoy to be capable of mercy even with his own son.

"_How can you look so much like me but be so different?"_ Lucius mused as he touched his son's flaxen hair and pale face. Sure enough the same grey eyes he's seen every day looked back at him. "_What have I done that has made it so easy for you to turn your back on me_?" he murmured low into Draco's ear as his hand gripped his son's slender neck. "_Judecca_." He whispered so softly that Draco didn't hear it, his left hand against his son's chest.

Swallowing hard against the hold, Draco managed to reply. "_I_ _am not turning my back on you! I just don't want to be one of his followers_!"

Shaking his head ruefully, Lucius sneered. "_By not accepting your duty, you are actively going against me. By choosing to side with mudbloods and traitors, you are besmirching my name! Tell me what have I done to deserve a blood traitor for a son? I gave you everything, you ungrateful little brat! I fulfilled every little selfish whim you had and this is how you repay me_?"

Unable to take any more of his father's accusations, not to mention his ridiculous bleating about him being the victim in all this, Draco snarled. "_You gave me nothing, Father! Nothing that I can't live without! Yes, you gave me the money, the clothes, all the pretty little trinkets that were supposed to keep me happy but did they? Are you honestly taken aback that I wouldn't just follow your lead like a lost puppy blindly going to my death? Didn't you ever think I would want something else than the life you chose for me_?"

"_The__life I have given you, you insolent brat, is something several people would gladly die for a million times over. Yet you dare spit it back in my face? You are undeserving of the Malfoy name and you will not disgrace me or my family a moment longer!_" Lucius bit out angrily as he grasped his cane tightly. Straightening imperiously, he brought down the cane on his son's shoulders and intoned to everyone in the Hall, reverting back to English so all could hear and understand. "I, Lucius Malfoy, hereby proclaim to all that this filth before me is no longer my son. Draco Lucien Malfoy is no more. You are, therefore, stripped of your name, of title and of any rights as a Malfoy heir. You're forever banned from using the name Malfoy as your own. Everything you've ever owned, ever touched that was given by me will be confiscated this afternoon. Starting with this!" Lucius quickly grabbed Draco's wand from his slack fingers and soundly broke it in two over his knee.

Draco flinched as his wand was broken. He felt his eyes well up with tears as he stood frozen in horror by his father's cruelty. He knew in the back of his mind that this would happen but it was still a major blow to him. Where will he live now? How will he find money for his expenses? How can he perform magic without his wand? Draco thought in horror as reality descended upon him viciously but still he held these troubling thoughts at bay. He knew what Lucius was trying to do. He was trying to test his son's resolve about all this. By his own means, this was Lucius' way of trying to bring him back. Draco shook his head sadly. It wouldn't work. There was too much at stake. Besides he would gladly spend the rest of his days working like the plebian masses he'd always ridiculed if it actually meant getting the chance to live out the rest of his life. "I understand." He acquiesced firmly, his voice gentle but his tone resolute. He answered in English, giving up the silly hope that he could escape this confrontation with even a scrap of dignity intact. Lucius had made sure that he was now an outcast of the social circle he once ruled.

Gritting his teeth, Lucius glared at the boy standing steadily before him, furious beyond belief when he didn't find even the slightest bit of remorse in his form. He grew angrier still as he found a part of himself actually admiring the boy for his sheer nerve and resolution. "You'll change your mind. You don't know how to be poor."

Nodding his head in agreement, he answered softly. "A true Slytherin always manages to come out on top. You taught me that yourself."

"You insolent welp! You have no idea what it means to earn your keep! You will not succeed, Slytherin or not." Lucius scowled.

Scoffing, Draco replied wryly. "It's pretty hypocritical of you to say that, Father. What do you know about '_earning your keep'_?"

That earned him a hard shove of Lucius' cane. "Do you really want to start insulting me now, Draco? You know better than anyone else that it isn't in your best interest to test my temper. In fact, I've been quite gracious in not killing you where you stand." He whispered gently, almost lovingly but his words had an edge to it that warned Draco of his temperament. The younger blond stiffened in response. "Think about it, boy. You have nowhere to go. You have no one to turn to. You're all alone if you defy me." He breathed dangerously into his son's ear. "Nobody crosses Lucius Malfoy without living to regret it. No one, Draco, not even you." Lucius straightened as his cold grey eyes locked onto identical ones. "Don't make me hurt you." It was said so softly that Draco could almost close his eyes and imagine those words being said as a plea. An appeal from a proud yet desperate father to a son urging him not to desert him.

"I don't regret my choice." He said softly. "But I am sorry I hurt you with it."

"Hurt me?" Lucius mocked the words back to the boy, his face twisting once again with volatile emotion. "How can it hurt me when they're spoken by a stranger? Do not forget. I have no son. I need no son. Don't you ever address me as your father again! You have lost that privilege." The words were said with so much barbed hate that Draco couldn't help but be shattered by it a little.

"Did you ever love me?" Draco whispered brokenly, his eyes shining with tears he refused to shed and his throat closing up with misery. He cursed himself for sounding so weak but the child inside him forced him to ask. He needed to know. Maybe then this break from this man would be less painful.

The elder Malfoy sneered one more time before turning away. His cruel words drifting in the space between them. "This wouldn't be so easy if I did." And Draco felt with awful certainty that even with this knowledge, it hurt more instead of less.

Lucius strode away angrily, livid at his former son for what he conceived as the worst of betrayals. He should have known that the boy was weak, should have seen it by the way he couldn't master the last Unforgivable. He shouldn't have placed such hopes in what he now saw as a waste of his time. He was further angered by the annoying weight that was now settling in his chest. The current pain that bore down on him the moment he realized his precious son meant to leave him forever. Well, if the boy wanted to live, he would live alright, and he would do so regretting this betrayal every second of that borrowed time. He didn't know how it could happen. He had raised Draco meticulously, exactly as his father had done with him. He taught him discipline, honor and pride. How could his son, whom he had always likened proudly to himself, fail him so utterly? And was it really necessary for it to hurt this much? He closed his eyes as he stopped just outside of the Great Hall's ornate doors. Then summoning all of his newfound hate for the boy he raised so diligently, he struggled to widen the gap between them and to break their ties once and for all. It would be a perfect way to accomplish it as well since their uncanny likeness that once brought him fierce pride, now made him ill at ease. He straightened his shoulders and walked the remaining paces out of the school but not before whispering intently. "_Cito_ _Judecca_."

He smiled as he walked hurriedly away, his son's screams of pain filling the air like sweet music to his ears.

Draco couldn't help but cry out as he felt something suddenly cleaving his chest out in two. He clawed at his shirt front, too distressed and wracked with pain to care about disrobing in public and he stared horrifically at what he found. There an invisible force was cutting a line of fire on his alabaster skin, marking the letters **T R A I T O R** on his once flawlessly smooth chest. Tears of pain stung his eyes as he realized the extent of his father's cruelty and even then he could understand the man's reasoning. He was now no longer a carbon copy of Lucius. His father could now hate him without restraint. He was so caught up in the throes of the pain that it didn't quite register on him exactly when the curse ended and his wound sealed itself, forever leaving its scar. His body was yielding to unconsciousness but not before he felt strong arms surround him and his grey eyes locked onto concerned emerald ones. Then the world went mercifully black.

_Perrectum._

**Exinde:**

_Si__vis pacem, para bellum._

If you want peace, prepare for war.

**AN:** This is my first time writing Lucius. How did I do? I really wanted to keep him IC but at the same time show glimpses of how he loved his son in his own twisted Malfoy way. Honestly when I was writing the ending to this chapter I was very much tempted to kill him off with "_Lucius_ _quickly strode out of the school. Rocks fall. He is DEAD." _But of course, I couldn't :) And for those of you who are wondering what the hell happened to Harry, his perspective is shown in the next chapter.

_Judecca_- is the level of Hell reserved for traitors. It is said in Dante's Divine Comedy to be the place where Judas Escariot and Satan reside.

Love it? Hate it? Comments are love! They do help me in writing the next chapter! Look how quickly I churned out this one?


	7. Act VII

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy   
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Rating: **NC-17 for violence  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU. Written before HBP. No HBP Spoilers. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.  
**Beta:** the lovely  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?  
**Author's note:** This story is not particularly fast paced.

**Act VII.**

**Si vis pacem, para bellum.**

_If you want peace, prepare for war._

Harry woke up that day with a sense of deep-seated trepidation. He had never been good at Divination but the feeling in the pit of his stomach weighed down on him as he continued through his last morning ritual and he couldn't help but predict that something big was going to happen today. Of course, that feeling could very well be just because it was his last full day as a student at Hogwarts. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was something more than that. It could also be because of how shaken he still was from his most recent encounter with a certain Slytherin last night. He shook his head. He didn't want to go down that road again. He had stayed up almost all night thinking about that confrontation and his subsequent embarrassing problem he'd incurred and he didn't want to dwell on it for a second longer. After all, what else could it do but rob him of whatever piece of mind he was able to purchase this morning when he decided to push all those confusing feelings aside. It wouldn't do him any good any way. Malfoy hated his guts. He wasn't queer. That was the end of that.

The sinking feeling prevailed as he went about his day. It followed him all the way to breakfast as he watched all the happy smiling faces, the cooing lovers and the boisterous friends. He couldn't help feeling like a morose idiot amidst the gaggle of happy teenagers. What was wrong with him? It's bad enough that he felt like he had an ever-present target attached to his back that attracts dangerous situations left and right but now he couldn't even manage a smile for his Year mates on the last day of school? He was free now! No more Snape to yell at him and deduct points. No more stupid exams to cram for with Hermione's lectures about procrastination providing background noise. He was well on his way to becoming a full-fledged wizard in the eyes of the Wizarding World. Surely that warranted a cause for celebration? Or at least a smile for fuck's sake! But here he was moping like some dour Gryffindor version of Snape. He sighed. He knew he was in trouble when even that didn't stir him from his mood. His housemates hadn't even dined to converse with him, recognizing correctly that he was brooding. Ron wasn't even making a sad attempt to lift his spirits with a flat joke. Perhaps he'd finally learned something. After all, living seven years with a person, a bloke learns a thing or two.

He was about to continue brooding when the Hall's doors flew open with a bang. Turning his head to search for the cause of the commotion, his jaw dropped at the sight that met his eyes. For there, framed amidst the sunshine of the early morning, was Lucius Malfoy.

Growling low in his throat, he watched the poncy bastard make his way through the hall. He was just about to demand what the bloody hell Lucius was doing here when Ron beat him to it. He almost hit the roof when he heard the wanker's reply. How could Fudge fail the Wizarding World yet again? And letting go Voldemort's right hand man at that? Why doesn't he just hand over the Wizarding World on a silver platter while he's at it? What could have possibly trumped his Veritaserum verified testimony and made it possible to let the Death Eater go? He was just about to rip the smug bastard a new one when the git turned away from them, his steps measured and set clearly on one goal.

Harry stiffened visibly when the realization of just who Lucius was heading for permeated his furious rage. He was here to take Draco away! He balled his fists and closed his eyes, desperately trying to control his anger. He could already feel his innate magic becoming increasingly volatile and he didn't want to make a scene. It had been awhile since he'd been this angry, the last would probably at the end of his fifth year and he had shamelessly succumbed to his raw anger then, he would not let it occur again. Besides he didn't think it would help anybody, especially Draco, if he decked the Slytherin's bastard of a father flat on his back. He was also quite sure that it would land him in hot water so he hastened to calm himself but he found it to be increasingly hard with each step Lucius took that brought him closer to his son. It also didn't help that Draco, that scared lost boy he was talking to last night, was nowhere to be found. The boy that was staring fixedly at his father approaching was now undeniably the Malfoy of old. His grey eyes glinting with coldness and his face a mask of unreadable emotion. For some reason that hurt more than it should and that bewildered him to no end. Draco-no-Malfoy had said himself that they would never be friends and that this was his birth right. Should he really be this surprised that Draco-Malfoy damnit!- was going to follow his father? But even though he was berating himself for being stupid enough to get his hopes up over the blond, his eyes were still searching for cool grey. And when he did finally find them gazing back at him, he didn't break this precious contact, fearing that it would be the last time. _Don't go! Don't follow him! You're worth more than that! _Harry thought desperately but the blond looked away. Working his jaw tensely, he was about to open his mouth and express his volatile objection when a whisper of a voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

Did he just- Did he hear him right? Did the blond just say No? Heart in his mouth, blood racing, Harry strained to hear better and when he caught those words of outright refusal; he nearly couldn't curb his urge to exclaim in relief. "Oh thank Merlin!" he breathed as his body that was taut as a bowstring, relaxed. He started to make his way closer to the two blonds who were now conversing in rapid fire French but he stopped when he caught sight of Ron getting ready to cast what seemed to be a translation spell. "Ron! Stop that!" Harry admonished him, swatting Ron's wand that the redhead was currently pointing at himself.

"Huh? What? I just wanted to understand what the hell is going on!" Ron protested, disgruntled.

"Well, there's a reason why they're speaking in French and that's because they don't want anybody listening in on their conversation!" Harry explained to him in a scandalized tone.

"So? It's just Malfoy!" Ron retorted, unimpressed.

Scoffing, Harry shot back heatedly, "Even Draco deserves some privacy! It can't be easy defying his father especially when it's in front of the whole school!"

Snorting, Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "Fine. I won't use the spell. I don't know what's got your knickers in a twist, defending Malfoy of all people."

He was about to go on and demand that Harry explain himself more thoroughly and explain to him why exactly he was using Malfoy's given name like they were bosom buddies or some such when he realized something.

Harry was no longer beside him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Harry?" Ron demanded as he caught the brunette's sleeve. Harry was acting very peculiar ever since he woke up today. At first he just chalked it up to nostalgia since it was the end of a chapter in their lives but he could see now that it was different. He saw the way his best mate was looking at the younger Malfoy earlier, and again just now, with his fiery defense of the Slytherin. Something was definitely up and he didn't like it one bit if it involved a Malfoy, even one that currently seemed to be defying his own father.

"Where do you think, Ron? I want to keep an eye on Malfoy." Harry cocked his head to the side to indicate the taller sneering blond that was currently wielding his ridiculous cane with malice. "Who knows what he might do especially now that Draco has finally defied him?" Harry broke free of his mate's grip, only to find himself ensnared once more.

"Draco? _Finally_ defied him? Harry, what the hell? You talk as if you're chums with him!" Ron accused, bewildered by the cordial fashion that Harry was using with Malfoy. Last time he checked the blond could not stand the Boy Who Lived. Harry was actually the only one he refused to be civil to. The Slytherin was even courteous to him for fuck's sake! What the bloody hell was going on here?

"I just want to keep an eye on Lucius." Harry retorted, fighting to keep from snapping at the redhead that was making it near impossible for him to be closer to the confrontation at the Slytherin Table.

"I think you want to keep an eye on _Draco."_ Ron scoffed, unimpressed by the boy's excuses. Honestly! He wasn't as oblivious as some people accused him to be. He had seen the anguished misery that would flit through his best mate's eyes whenever Malfoy still slighted him. He had noticed the boy's overt glances at the Slytherin and the faraway look that would sometimes seep into emerald eyes when the blond was mentioned in passing conversation. It was clear to anyone who bothered to look. Harry was itching to defend and protect the younger Malfoy. Now all he needed was to know why.

"And what if I do? You can't tell me you're not relieved that he's not going with his father." Harry shot back.

"Of course I am. One less git to fight, that's what I say but it still doesn't explain you preoccupation with him. Besides he looks like he's doing just fine." Ron remarked as he watched Draco snarl at his father about Merlin knows what.

"Yeah well that's still Lucius Malfoy, in case you've forgotten, and he has just proven he's as slippery as an eel. I wouldn't put it past him if he hexed his son into submission." Harry replied quietly as he watched the Malfoy men in battle.

"I know. But I don't think it's your battle to fight. Besides, _Draco_ might hex you for even trying it. You're not exactly his favorite person." Ron protested.

_Don't I know it!_ Harry thought bitterly but he nodded his acquiescence. After all, he was pretty sure the younger Slytherin wouldn't take kindly to his interference about what he probably considered as his family's business. Why else would the boy switch to his native language therefore excluding the majority of the population? He'd have to respect that.

"You have to admit though, he's got balls. Not everyone can stand up to Lucius." Ron admitted begrudgingly. "But still it's just Malfoy. You shouldn't be so eager to play hero for the likes of him."

Harry sighed and merely nodded, finding that agreeing with his hot tempered friend was better than getting into a fight with him. However, as he watched the two blonds, his wand was still at the ready in case the elder Malfoy did anything underhanded.

A collection of gasps was heard then as Lucius' cruel voice resounded throughout the Hall, declaring for all and sundry that Draco was no longer his son. Stunned silence prevailed as he continued to strip Draco of his name, fortune and possessions. He even went so far as to destroy the boy's wand. Harry could not help the intense rage that resurged through his body. How dare he! How dare Lucius cause his own son so much grief and humiliation? His body shook with anger as he tried once again to regain control, already several glass cups were shattering nearby. He took a step forward but was once again stopped by a restraining hand. He glared at Ron but the boy merely shook his head and reminded him again, "It's not your fight."

"I don't care!" Harry growled. "I knew the bastard was going to try something! He just publicly disowned his son, what else is he capable of doing?"

"What could you do? Force Malfoy to take his son back? Fight the git's battles for him? You will only get a hex in return from either of them! Besides don't you think the wanker deserves it? He's made our lives miserable for years, Harry! One year of his silence doesn't erase that for me! And you, he hasn't even let up on you! " Ron shot back, still unwilling to let his best mate go.

Harry worked his jaw, his hands still balled into fists. He knew Ron was right but really there was nothing else he'd rather do than beat the sadistic bastard's face into the ground. That's why he was relieved when Lucius suddenly turned away without giving his son a second look. Tension eased from his body as he started to relax, happy that the ordeal looked to be over. He was just making his way over to the hunched blond to make sure he was alright when the boy suddenly erupted into blood curdling screams. Heart racing, he didn't even have time to think, his feet were already obeying him as he ran to the tortured boy. He caught the Slytherin as he fell into deep unconsciousness, but not before he saw pained grey eyes locked onto his own.

**An hour later…**

Albus Dumbledore strode quickly through the ancient halls of his school, face lined hard and eyes starkly absent of their gentle twinkling. He reached the Infirmary not long after, bursting through the closed doors, he spared the occupants of the outer room a brief nod and a wan smile. But he didn't stay to chat with them, his mind set on a certain blond. He opened the door to one of the Infirmary's private wards slowly, careful not to disturb its occupant lest he was awake. He stepped inside and was greeted by the sight of a sleeping Draco Malfoy. His eyes softened as he surveyed the Slytherin. The boy's face was relaxed in slumber, devoid of even a hint of negative emotion but as Albus drew closer he could see the lines of exhaustion on the boy's face. He sighed, cursing once more the wasted morning he spent in the Ministry trying to dispute Lucius Malfoy's acquittal. He should have known the bastard would come for his son the second he was able to. But alas, he didn't listen to his gut and had tried to expedite the matter in a more diplomatic fashion.

"Forgive me, Draco." He whispered softly, his old heart breaking at the price the boy had to pay for choosing his own path.

"What is it about Gryffindors that compels them to self-flagellation in times of despair? Is it acquired from Godric's genetic code or something?"

"Severus." Albus greeted the sour man framed in the doorway.

"Besides if there is anybody in this room that should be apologizing," Severus interjected as he moved to stand beside the headmaster, "It should be me. After all, I am the boy's godfather." His hard face softened slightly as he took in the sight of his injured godson, his face paler than he'd ever seen it, his body looking frail and weak. Lastly his gaze fell on the raised mound of tortured flesh that formed that hateful word.

"I will kill him." He vowed with venom and for the first time in twenty years, he was glad he was a Death Eater.

"And wound your godson even more? I think not, Severus." Albus chided him solemnly from atop his half–moon glasses.

"What would you have me do then, Albus?" He gritted through his teeth. "Stand aside and do nothing? Cower back into the shadows and scrounge for scraps of information? Smile at that bastard like I don't detest the very air he breathes?"

"If you love him then yes. That is what you will have to do." Albus answered him carefully, his eyes filled with great sadness as he gazed at the patient on the bed.

Making a frustrated noise at the back of his throat, Severus threw up his hands and began to pace. "If you mean to tell me that you expect me to pat that wanker on the back and applaud him for doing a splendid job of abusing his child then you clearly are as batty as the portraits say! I am not that good of an actor! If he so much as mentions Draco's name in front of me, I swear to you, Albus, the Killing Curse will not be the only thing passing through my lips!"

Sighing, Albus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know how you feel, Severus and believe me I feel it as well. You know how I feel about child abuse, especially of those I consider my own but your position as a spy is too valuable. We cannot take any chances! Besides Draco will not take kindly to you killing his father."

"Oh. I doubt that, especially after this." Severus gazed at the scorched burn that marked his godson's chest. How could Lucius be so ruthless? Especially to his own son whom he always bragged about?

Albus shook his head. "A moment of cruelty does not erase a lifetime of love. Draco loves his father. We both know this. I have seen how he struggled with his decision and now that he has made the right one, don't make him think otherwise."

"You don't know what you ask of me, Albus." Severus sighed in resignation.

Albus smiled sadly as he clapped a comforting hand on his Potion Master's shoulder. "I do, which is why I am asking it of you. I know you can do it, Severus. You know you have to keep your distance from the boy and maintain your cover. It's the best thing you can do to help him."

"You put too much faith in my acting skills." Severus stated with a wry smile.

"No, Severus." Albus answered softly. "I place my trust in your love for him and that has always been a sound investment."

"Then I must leave now. He cannot find me here." Severus declared as he took one last glance at the frail boy, refusing to be sucked into one of the headmaster's touchy feely moments that would no doubt reduce him to a bumbling teary-eyed idiot. "Take care of him." He whispered softly.

"I will." Albus vowed. Severus stared at the headmaster for a second longer, making sure he found what he was looking for and when he did, he swept out of the room, each step painfully hard, yet he held steadfast to his resolve, even when he knew that come tomorrow, Draco would begin to hate him. He accepted that, for he could handle the boy's hate if it meant never bearing witness to his death.

Albus watched him go, his heart weighed down by what he had just done. A part of him always shattered whenever he had to send the man back into the Dark Lord's clutches. Albus had vowed sixteen years ago that he would show him the way to a better life. Look at him now. His Potions Master was indeed older and wiser but he still retained the hurt, pain and guilt that had haunted him before. How was his life any different? Any better? And now he dared to add another load to the burden he was already carrying. How much more until he broke? And if he finally did could Albus really blame him? He shook his head wearily, drained by his dark thoughts. He had always trusted the man. He would not stop doing so now, especially mere minutes since he just reiterated it. They both knew that such a war, like the one that'd been brewing for over twenty years, required sacrifices such as this and that if they wanted any peace at all, they should be prepared to die for it. But it was still hard. Sacrifice was still a sacrifice and not even the best of all reasons behind it could make the cross easier to bear.

"_Fascia_." Albus whispered as he cast a spell to bandage Draco's marked torso. The wound was already sealed but it would be a cruel thing if the boy woke up to the sight of it. As Albus stood closer to the young boy that Severus had entrusted in his care, his dull blue eyes hardened into ice chips and the old face strengthened with rage. Albus swore quietly that no further harm would befall the Slytherin as his heart filled with fierce determination and protectiveness for the small broken boy. It would be a cold day in hell before Lucius got his clutches on him again.

Albus was startled out of his reverie when the boy shifted and began to show signs of regaining consciousness. He debated on whether he should get Poppy or not but ultimately decided against it. He didn't want Draco to wake up all alone especially after the ordeal he went through. It wouldn't do well if the boy began to feel even more abandoned than he already was and so he stepped closer, directly into the boy's line of sight.

Slowly eyelids fluttered open to reveal hazy grey and Draco began to try to sit up, his movements stilted and weak. Albus quickly helped the boy into position and he smiled a little at the embarrassed flush that stained the boy's cheeks. Once righted properly, the headmaster found himself staring at confused eyes and hearing a very peculiar question,

"What happened to me, Headmaster?"

_Perrectum._

_Exinde:_

**Act VIII.**

Nihil lacrima citius arescit.

_Nothing dries more quickly than a tear._

**AN:** Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed the last chapter! I am swearing to update regularly now just because there is a growing group of people clamoring for it! I'm telling you the more you prod and needle me, the faster I write! LOL Actually, this chapter was done a week ago but my poor beta was in the hospital. hugs mic I'm glad you're recovering! Get well soon, luv! So how did you like this chapter? Tell me! _Comments are love! And it always helps me write!_ :) And oh yeah, the sword makes its first appearance in the next Act.


	8. Act VIII

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy  
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Rating: **NC-17 for violence and language  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU. Written before HBP. No HBP Spoilers. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.  
**Beta:** the lovely micolerose  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?  
**Author's note:** I think the NC-17 rating for this fic is earned in this chapter.

**Act VIII. **

Nihil lacrima citius arescit.

_Nothing dries more quickly than a tear._

Albus Dumbledore stared at the boy for a good minute, for he felt something he hadn't in a long time, confusion. He studied the bewildered young man before him and asked, "I beg your pardon?"

Draco rubbed a fist over his eyes gently, trying to clear his vision. He had woken up, extremely out of sorts in the Infirmary of all places. Last thing he remembered was eating breakfast in the Great Hall. He really hoped to Merlin he didn't do something as embarrassing as like say faint like a girl. He knew he was stressed out and on the brink of a nervous breakdown but this was simply ridiculous! Malfoys don't faint like pansies! He seriously hoped that his father wouldn't have to hear of this or else he'd be in for a long lecture about Malfoy etiquette…again. He shuddered. Merlin, the last one lasted for hours!

"You fell unconscious. It was lucky Mr. Potter was able to catch you before your head hit the ground." Albus answered cautiously, afraid to reveal too much. He didn't want to traumatize the boy any further.

Blushing furiously, Draco stared hard at the floor. He had fainted then, although the headmaster had tactfully veered from calling it that, and not only did he do so in front of the whole sodding school as it seems, but he also had to be saved by bloody Potter and probably landed in his arms like some storybook princess or one of his gaudy fangirls! Draco shuddered. Well isn't that just peachy? The last day of school and everyone would remember him as the Malfoy with the weak constitution who goes about fainting into the arms of stupid heroic Gryffindors! He covered his face with his hands. He'd never live this down! He'd have to run away to Ethiopia, take to wearing Saffron robes and live in a remote hut. Well, or not. He never really did fancy wildlife, Saffron grated on his fragile skin and let's face it, Daddy dearest would have kittens and drag him all the way back to this side of the pond. He was about to contemplate the pros and cons of living in Istanbul instead when he realized Dumbledore was actually talking to him and from the tired expression on the old fogey's face, it seemed as if he'd been trying to get his attention for awhile now. "Er- sorry?" He mumbled, cringing at the incoherent level his communication skills had been reduced to.

"I was just asking if you felt any better. Do you remember what happened at all?" Albus asked gently.

"Well, clearly not or the words 'WHAT HAPPENED TO ME, HEADMASTER?' wouldn't have come out of my mouth!" Draco snapped, confused and more than a little bit scared about what exactly could have shocked him enough to faint in the first place.

Albus smiled tiredly at the boy, focusing on the boy's nervous state rather than his angry words. The Slytherin had gone through a very rough time, enough to lock away the painful moments from this morning and it only served to add to his agitation. "Forgive me, child. I know it has been a very taxing morning." Albus tried to placate the boy.

"Something tells me, it's about to become even more so." Draco sighed as he eased back down on his pillows. "Now please tell me what happened to me. Why am I in the infirmary? And why the hell is my whole torso covered with gauze?"

He winced suddenly and clutched his head as a barrage of sounds and sensations assaulted his mind.  
_  
"Will you lie then with these mongrels? Will you fight for their cause and slay your friends in the heat of battle? All because you are too cowardly to take power when it is rightfully yours? You disgust me." _

Draco shook his head as he desperately tried to shake away the remnants of that daze. What was that? Was it a memory? Who was that speaking with so much anger and derision?

"Draco? Draco? Are you alright, my boy?" Albus called out in concern. Perhaps he should have gotten Poppy after all. Surely the boy needed more treatments. He was just about to call for the nurse when Draco cut him off.

"I'm alright, headmaster. I'm just a bit tired. What is it that you were saying?" Draco asked softly, refusing to meet the old wizard's anxious gaze. He was beyond humiliated that he had been caught with his mind wandering like a doddering fool.

Albus hesitated in answering. He was originally going to narrate the events that happened before but now seeing how fragile Draco truly was and how affected he was by the whole thing, he changed his mind. It seemed cruel to subject the boy to it again, especially since he didn't seem to be able to cope with it the first time around. Wouldn't it be a kinder to leave the boy in the dark right now? Oh he was sure the boy would find out eventually. The curse scar on his chest would take care of that, not to mention the papers were filled with Lucius' acquittal, but for now he was willing to let the truth slide, if it meant seeing the boy's face peaceful and unguarded like it was when he was asleep. "There was an incident at the Great Hall. You were hurt by an aimed hex and had collapsed in pain. Mr. Potter took you here immediately."

Draco flinched at the mention of his rival's role in all this but he staunchly ignored it. Instead he barreled on. "Well? Who was it? I hope they were severely punished!" Already Draco could name more than a handful of people who would love to see him suffer. He hadn't necessarily retained many friends with his reclusive attitude this year. "When my father hears of this I'm sure he'll be livid! Imprisoned or not, he will not stand to have his only son assaulted mindlessly!" He huffed in indignation.

"I am sure that in due time the perpetrator shall reap his own punishment. But I shall not say anything further. This is clearly aggravating you and your wounds cannot stand such a thing." Albus placated him kindly.

"What? No! I demand to know what happened to me! You cannot withhold this information! Why? Was it one of your precious Gryffindors? Did one of them finally snap and took one last shot at the good old Junior Death Eater? Is this why you won't tell me? Protecting your cubs once again?" Draco snarled heatedly, furious that Dumbledore was hiding it from him. He wanted to know why his head was aching and sore. He needed to find out why there was an almost overwhelming, not to mention unexplainable, sense of loss and bitterness welling up inside of him.

But most of all, he desperately wanted to figure out why the minute he woke up, he suddenly felt the urge to break down and cry.

Fucking Merlin on a broomstick! He didn't even know why he felt that way! He hadn't experienced this much utter loss and devastation since his father was taken away. None of it made sense for if he was just hexed by a fellow student, it shouldn't have irked him this badly. Suddenly tired and weary, Draco sat back, deflated. Confused and badly shaken, he finally mumbled. "Just tell me."

Albus sighed. He was really tempted to tell the boy. He had flinched when Draco had mentioned his father during his trademark flaunting of Lucius' former glory. It saddened him that he would have to take that illusion away from him, a second time. His eyes softened as he gazed at the defeated boy. His shoulders were slumped and his head bowed, something that was starkly different from the way the boy usually carried himself. It dawned on him that right this second, the boy might very well be at his breaking point. One more push could be all he needed to the edge of hysteria. The action of blocking out this memory was his mind's way of shielding itself until it could cope with it. Albus shook his head sorrowfully. "I can't."

Enraged by the headmaster's refusal and not to mention his own visible vulnerability, Draco demanded. "And why the hell not? You think I can't handle whatever it is that you're keeping from me? You think I'm too weak?"

Albus shook his head sadly. "No child, I think you too precious. Too dear for me to subject you to that horror the second you've managed to escape from it."

Draco snorted as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, unsure of what to make of such tender proclamation. He was saved from answering when Madam Pomfrey bustled through the door.

"Albus! Headmaster or not, you should have alerted me immediately when my patient woke up!" Madam Pomfrey admonished the old wizard severely. "And what is with all the yelling going on in this room? This is an Infirmary, not a Quidditch game! I will have your hide if you aggravated my patient!"

"My apologies, Poppy." Albus offered simply. "Draco and I were too caught up in our conversation to notice."

Scoffing, the nurse quickly bustled over to her patient, checking Draco's temperature hurriedly and casting diagnostic spells on him.

"I'm alright. Really, quit coddling me! My head is just a touch sore that's all!" Draco grumbled, trying to swat the woman's attempts to manhandle his person. The usually cold and professional nurse was actually cooing at him as she tended to him for fuck's sake! What the hell was going on here?

"I just wanted to check on your bandages but it can wait. Here have some chocolate, child. There's a good boy." Madam Pomfrey smiled softly at the blond. Her usual brisk attitude softened radically by the memory of him looking pale and wan, with that cursed word branded into his skin. She could still remember vividly the acrid smell of burnt flesh when she had tended to him.

Glaring at this uncomfortable and unusual treatment, Draco chewed angrily on the slab of chocolate that the pushy woman had shoveled in his mouth. _Insufferable woman! Manhandling a Malfoy! I will lodge a complaint! When my Father hears- _His thoughts were cut off abruptly as the Sleeping draught in the chocolate hit finally him. "Blasted candy!" He cursed and then he fell into blessed sleep.

"Thank you, Poppy." Albus smiled gratefully at the now docile blond. He was running out of excuses of what to say to the boy. He didn't think Draco should be told about the events this morning just yet. The Slytherin was clearly still shaken up and his nervous system had received quite a jolt with the sensory overload it got from Lucius' ancient curse.

"How could Lucius be so heartless, Albus? To his own son?" Poppy asked him softly, afraid to wake the exhausted boy as she followed the old wizard to a far corner in the room. Her eyes were shining with newfound worry and concern for the sleeping blond. As a rule she never got emotionally involved with any of her patients but she couldn't help but be emotional over the sight of the usually aloof boy mutilated by his own father, especially when she learned that Draco had sustained such a curse because of his refusal of the Dark Mark. What he did was nothing short of heroic and even she was moved.

Albus sighed. The man was really heartless, using such a dark and painful hex on his son. The Curse of Judecca or the Traitor's Curse was one of the oldest and darkest hexes around. It was very popular during the First Rising and it was actually one of Voldemort's favourite tools in punishing his deserters. The curse coupled with the rite was one of the most despicable things Albus had ever heard of. For after the branding of the curse scar, the Death Eaters would then proceed to cut out the traitor's tongue, making him mute and then they would string him up and light him on fire, ensuring a slow excruciating death. Could it be that this was what Lucius had in mind for his son? Surely even he couldn't be that cruel? Albus shook his head. He knew the answer to that and he wasn't naïve enough to deny it. The boy must be moved, somewhere safe where his father could not touch him.

"I'm afraid that Azkaban did him more harm than good, Poppy. It seems as if he is more cruel and aggressive than ever before." Albus said sadly.

"Can't we press charges against him? He'd already disowned Draco by then. He can't claim it as a discipline method or any such nonsense!" Poppy asked, bristling at the mere thought.

Albus shook his head. "Although he is ruthless in his anger, he is not stupid. He was a good distance away from Draco with his back to the boy and his wand in his pocket. There is no way we could verify that it was he who cursed Draco."

"But that's ridiculous! Who else could it be?" Poppy snorted angrily.

"A handful of students come to mind, especially after Draco had renounced Voldemort's side so publicly. I have no doubt any lawyer worth his salt would be able to win that argument." Albus explained tiredly. It was times like this when he really hated politics and the Ministry.

"There is really nothing we can do then?" Poppy asked desolately.

"Protect him. Care for him. Tend to him. Make sure Lucius never gets near him again." Albus instructed firmly. "He cannot stay here for long. He must be moved."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Nothing concrete as of yet. I have to make arrangements and then we shall see." Albus answered her kindly. "Please alert me when he wakes. He has no recollection of what happened to him so it would not be wise to talk about anything pertaining to this morning."

Poppy nodded sadly as she watched the headmaster leave then she turned her soft gaze on her patient, wishing she had the power to mend hearts as well as bodies.

**Earlier in the waiting room, just outside the Infirmary...**

"Christ, Harry! Will you sit down for a minute? You're making me dizzy!" Ron snapped at his friend who was driving him barmy with his continuous frantic pacing.

"Huh? Wha? Oh." Harry stopped, finally noticing the redhead trying to get his attention and he reluctantly sat down. But soon enough, he was twitching nervously.

"Ron! Harry! I just heard about what happened! Is it true?" Hermione called out as she ran towards them. "Did Malfoy really defy his father?"

Harry nodded grimly. "And got hexed to hell and back in the process."

Hermione gasped. She heard snatches of something like that happening but she figured it would just be an exaggeration. After all Malfoy Senior had always spoiled his son. But then again she never thought Malfoy would defy his father either. "What happened to him?"

"Judecca's Curse." Ron answered softly, remembering the anguished screams that emanated from the blond. Even he wouldn't have wished that on the annoying prat and to think it was his own father that had put it on him.

"What is that?" Hermione asked curiously, her pride smarting a little at not being able to recognize the hex.

Smirking slightly at being able to get one over his brainy friend, Ron hastened to explain. "It's not a well-known curse because it's highly illegal and it's some really dark stuff. You won't be able to find it any books unless you go to the Restricted section or have seen it yourself. It's a mark that Death Eaters used to put on traitors before they killed them. You-Know-Who used it a lot the first time around. I overheard Dad talking about it when I was younger. He said that the worst victims of the war where the ones who died by the rites of Judecca. I don't know what that means though."

"So how was Malfoy marked by his father? Was it like the Dark Mark or something?" Hermione asked, inwardly berating the fact that she missed all this.

Ron was about to answer her but Harry cut him off as he was already in a bad mood because nobody would tell him how the hell Draco was and now one of his best friends seemed to a be just a touch too fascinated with Draco's mutilation. "A pity, you weren't there, Hermione. You would have seen how an invisible knife gutted Draco open, mutilating his chest until he screamed, branding him forever with a nifty little curse scar that reads TRAITOR. Wouldn't that have been fascinating? Something worthy for Hogwarts: A History?"

Hermione gasped, her hand on her mouth, looking quite ready to faint.

Ron shoved him hard. "Hey! You can be a bastard to me all you want but don't you dare take it out on Hermione! She was just asking a question! Remember she wasn't there! There's no need to be so ruthless about it, you dick!"

"Well, I'm sorry but she was looking too fascinated by the whole thing!" Harry snarled, glad to be able to take out his rage on something.

"Fucking Hell Harry! So would you if you never heard of it before and hadn't witnessed it first-hand! We're both sickened by it and so is she now that she's been told. Leave off! I know you're mad as a rabid hippogriff right now over Malfoy. So am I but at least have half the brain not to take it out on us!" Ron shot back, unwilling to be the punching bag Harry hit to make himself feel better.

Harry was about to retort angrily when suddenly the Infirmary's doors burst open to admit a somber looking Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore! Professor!" Harry called out, scrambling to catch up with the man but all the headmaster did was smile wanly and nod at him in acknowledgement. He didn't even break his stride and he quickly disappeared behind the door of the room Draco was sequestered in.

"Fucking Hell!" Harry growled, his frustration and anger exploding at being ignored once again. He wanted to find out what the hell was going on but no one would stop and tell him! Was Draco okay? Did Lucius' curse do more damage than the scar? "Augh!" He yelled in frustration as he soundly kicked a chair.

Ron nudged Hermione and tilted his head to motion Harry in what he thought was a completely discreet way. He was done dealing with the git. He didn't want his head bitten off a third time. Bloody hell! Harry was impossible today especially over this whole Draco business. Sure even he was horrified at what the blond had gone through and he was now seeing the Slytherin in a completely different light but surely it wasn't cause for such dramatics? Besides he wasn't really good with handling the mushy stuff. He was once accused of having the emotional range of a teaspoon, after all. Granted he'd like to think he'd changed a lot since then, but that still didn't mean he'd go on hankering for the role of the sensitive friend.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Boys! She grimaced as she bravely walked over to the frustrated Boy Who Lived who was still taking out his ire on several inanimate objects. "Harry? Calm down, okay? Take a deep breath. This isn't good for you. Plus you're scaring me." Hermione said with a placating smile.

Harry whirled around to face her, ready to fly off into another burst of expletives when the look on her face stopped him. She was genuinely concerned for him. They both were. Suddenly, the fight went out of his body as he sagged down towards the chair he was abusing. "Sorry." He mumbled as he cradled his head in his hands.

"It's okay. I can see you're really upset. We all are." Hermione said soothingly as she rubbed calming circles on his back. "What happened today was really upsetting. First with Lucius being let loose, then this whole mess with Draco. It's been a very emotional morning,"

"You-you said his name." Harry looked up in wonder. Could it be that his friends now saw what he discovered as well? Harry blushed. Hopefully, without the erotic leanings he was experiencing because that did not go over well with him.

Hermione snorted. "Of course I did. That is his name, isn't it? Plus he threw away his last name, Harry. He made a choice between his family and his own life, that couldn't have been easy. Now tell me what's gotten you so upset besides the obvious. You really scared me there for a minute."

Harry sighed. "Sorry. It just makes me so mad! With Lucius then with Draco getting hurt-" Harry trailed off as he looked at the closed door once again, silently willing for it to open and let somebody out so he'd know what the fuck was happening.

"You care about him." Hermione stated as this realization dawned on her.

"I-uh-um." Harry stuttered, his face beet red, unsure of what to make of that statement.

Hermione smiled at the incoherent noises her friend was making. It was just like Harry to feel this way. "Oh Harry, don't be embarrassed!"

_What the fuck? Am I that transparent?_ Harry thought in shock. _She couldn't have figured it out! I mean even I haven't figured out what the hell is happening to me whenever I'm near Draco! I mean it's perfectly normal to want to comfort an upset person, right? Or to want to save someone from a horrible fate? Standard Harry Potter behavior, surely! _He rushed to reassure himself, ignoring the squeaking voice that reminded him that while that was normal, his fascination with the blonde's ethereal beauty and body was not something that say someone like Ron would have. He shuddered at the thought.

"Oh Harry, calm down! I just meant that it is so like you to care about everyone, even someone who's tormented you for years!" Hermione said with an indulgent smile. "Comes with the whole saving people thing, I suppose." She chuckled wryly.

Harry laughed weakly in response. Oh thank Merlin! He was about to steer the conversation away from this touchy subject when Dumbledore walked out of Draco's room. Hastening to get on his feet, he rushed towards the old wizard quickly, unwilling to let him escape again without getting some answers. "Professor Dumbledore! How's Draco doing?" He burst out anxiously.

Dumbledore smiled tiredly at the apprehensive boy in front of him. He really was quite proud of this young man who cared about everyone indiscriminately, even his supposed archrival. "He is doing better, Harry. He's resting right now for he's had quite the ordeal. Thank you for your assistance in getting him to the Infirmary. If you were still a student, I'd be awarding you a hundred House points right now, my boy!" He commended him with a small laugh, his azure eyes resuming their old twinkling. It looked like convincing the boy of his plan wouldn't be a hardship and he was glad for that.

Harry waved the compliment away. He didn't care about House points! He wanted to see if Draco was truly alright. "Can I see him soon?" Harry asked anxiously, wanting to see for himself that the boy was really okay. He had looked a fright the last time he saw him and the image of a broken and bleeding Draco Malfoy would not erase itself from his mind anytime soon.

"I'm afraid not. He is still asleep and has not yet recovered from all this fully." Dumbledore smiled apologetically. "However, there is something you can do for him."

"What is it?" Harry asked, barely able to conceal his frustration about being denied.

Dumbledore held his smile. "I was wondering if it would be okay to have Draco moved to Grimmauld Place. He is not safe here. It is only a matter of time before Lucius tries something else. I wouldn't put it past him to do so. The most practical thing to do is to house him in Order Headquarters." He explained.

"Of course he can move in! You don't even need to ask!" Harry burst out, hardly managing to conceal his delight. _Now I don't have to worry about his safety! He'll be right under my roof! And no I'm not going to think about those bad thoughts over this. No, sir! Not at all._ Harry thought to himself as he blushed a curious red.

"Wonderful!" Dumbeldore exclaimed, his twinkling blue eyes sparkled annoyingly. "But however, there is one more thing I must ask you, something that I must ask all of you." He instructed firmly, looking to Ron and Hermione as well who were obviously eavesdropping on their whole conversation.

"Eh." Ron blushed at being caught.

Smiling, Hermione asked. "What is it, Professor?"

"You must not mention anything about this morning to Draco. Not a word about his father or the curse or his disownment. Nothing at all." Dumbledore asked them sternly.

"Huh? Why?" Harry asked, bewildered by the odd request.

Dumbledore sighed tiredly. He really didn't like this at all but what else could he do? "Draco has blocked out the memory of this morning. He doesn't remember a single thing and has no recollection of Lucius or of his deflecting from their side. And I think that it is for the best that we don't remind him just yet." Dumbledore explained carefully.

They all gasped at the news. How horrible! Draco didn't remember anything about the ordeal?

Harry could not believe his ears! Dumbledore wanted them to lie to the boy lying there broken and scarred in the Hospital Wing? He laughed hollowly as he shook his head. The old man hadn't changed a bit. Manipulative conniving bastard! How could he just gloss over what happened? To deny Draco of the memory of his heroic act was despicable and it reignited his bitter anger. "So you want us to lie to him? To completely ignore what he went though? To go on as if his sacrifice didn't happen? Merlin! I thought you learned by now!" Harry snarled, incensed at the man for wanting to manipulate Draco, the way he had Harry.

Dumbledore was taken aback by the bitterness and anger that was coming from the boy in waves. He was about to ask him for an explanation when the boy cut him off.

"When will you learn, Professor? I thought you already learned that lies will get you nowhere! Look at what happened to me!" Harry spat, inwardly glad to have found an outlet for his anger at last.

"I am not asking you to lie to him, Harry. He is still quite weak and cannot handle being reminded of his ordeal." Dumbledore explained patiently, although his insides were churning slowly at the return of the resentful tone he remembered the boy using on him during his disastrous Fifth Year. This cut more deeply than he could have ever imagined.

"A half truth is a whole lie! Merlin, even small children know that! If you keep this from him the way you kept everything from me, you will lose him. He has already chosen our side whether he remembers it or not. If you manipulate him any further, you'd be no better than Lucius!" Harry shot back.

"Harry, it is not my intent to do so." The headmaster tried to placate him but Harry was having none of it.

"I know that! I know you mean well but that's not enough!" Harry cried out, suddenly so very tired of the old wizard's naivety. "Don't let what happened to me, happen to him. He needs you to be the superhero I thought you once were. He needs to believe you're infallible, better, and stronger than Voldemort. He needs that even if he doesn't know it yet. It's the only way for him to stay on our side. Don't mess that up for him." Harry choked out, tears welling up in his eyes. He never really did get over the betrayal he felt in his Fifth Year. That, coupled with the fact that it was Dumbledore that sent him to live with people who hated him, had shattered his faith in the old wizard.

"I'll never forgive you if you do." He whispered softly, refusing to meet the headmaster's eyes and see the now familiar stirrings of regret, weariness and sadness that would be in them. He knew that his all too forgiving heart would falter at the sight of a distressed Albus Dumbledore and he didn't want to feel sorry for the old man. Unleashing the anger inside his heart felt good because it easily overshadowed the helplessness he'd felt since yesterday and he did not want to feel _that_ particular emotion again any time soon.

"Harry, my boy, you should know that-" Albus started to say, wanting desperately to explain himself to the boy but Harry never gave him the chance.

"Don't. I know what you're going to say so just don't. Yes, you've made another mistake and yes it may be because of your age. I know you're old and I know you're sorry. Lately that's all you've been, sir." Harry said wearily. He was tired of all the old man's excuses.

A lone tear trickled down the old man's face and disappeared into his beard. Harry was right and it seemed that there was nothing else he could do. "Very well. I understand. I was planning on telling him when he'd recuperated but I can see the logic in your argument. Perhaps it is better then, if you were the one to tell him." Dumbledore sighed softly, suddenly very tired and feeling his one hundred and fifty years.

"Huh? What?" Harry was startled out of his dark thoughts.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at the boy, wanting more than anything to erase the lingering bitterness and betrayal he saw there. He knew it would take time but he could wait. He loved the boy too dearly now to lose faith in him. "You're right. It would solve nothing if we all lied to him and it might be better if the truth came from someone he already trusted."

"What?" Harry goggled at the headmaster once more. "You think he trusts me?"

Dumbledore nodded his head. "Of course, he does. For the two of you might have fought all these seven years but honesty is always something he has come to expect from you and you of him."

Harry nodded dazedly. Well that was true but...

"So it's decided then. I will talk to you all again soon. There are some arrangements I must make especially since it is the last day of school." Dumbledore smiled at the trio as he made his leave but before he left, he looked at Harry sadly. "I know there is nothing in this world that I can do to erase the pain you feel, Harry. But I hope you know that if there was anything that I could do to make it better, it would've already been done. I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive an old man his mistakes."

Harry sighed tiredly as he watched the headmaster leave. He sat down heavily on one of the chairs and breathed deeply. The responsibility of telling Draco was now resting heavily on his shoulders. A fierce sense of protectiveness and possession took over him. He had no idea what to say to the boy but he'd make damn sure that Draco wouldn't be hurt needlessly ever again.

_Perrectum._

**Exinde:**  
_Fide, sed qui, vide._

**Trust, but take care whom.**

**AN:** Okay, remember in this fic, HBP never happened. Harry still harbors the resentment that we saw at the end of Ootp and that had festered over the years. But not to fear, both of them will have their H/C in due time :) Again thanks to everyone who's commented and emailed me urging me to keep this story going. You keep me working regularly on this fic. Thank you for all the feedback and to Black n White, thank you for such an awesome email. You're too kind really. I'm curious to hear of what you think of the new chapter :)

Love it? Hate it? Comments are ♥!


	9. Act IX

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy  
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Rating: **NC-17 for violence and language  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU, No HBP Spoilers. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.  
**Beta:** the wonderful micolerose  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?  
**Dedication:** This chapter would not be out today if not for Monochrome Snake who kept luring me with wonderful cookies. Can I have some more now?

**Act IX**

Fide, sed qui, vide. 

_Trust, but take care whom._

Stealthily stalking the halls that were teeming with students, Blaise Zabini walked down the hall, opposite traffic. Students were bustling and jostling each other about, excited words buzzing and exclaiming over the scene they had witnessed. Shoving at a particularly overexcited Hufflepuff, he shouldered his way through quickly. He didn't have much time and if these idiots wouldn't clear a path for him anytime soon, he would take the heavy parcel he gripped in his hand and soundly thump them with it! The train would be leaving soon and he would not board until this errand was finished.

Finally, he reached the double doors of the Infirmary. Sighing in relief, he cautiously peeked through the opening and surveyed the room. There, in a far corner, was what looked to be a convention of Gryffindors. Blaise curled his lip in disgust, more than thankful that he would not be forced into enduring that kind of company any longer. At last he would be free of the brash, abrasive and loud louts that made up that House. Quickly assessing that his progress towards the private room in the corner wouldn't be noticed, especially when Potter was bellowing like an irate hippogriff while all three were trying to calm him down, he hurriedly made a beeline for the closed corner room and silently thanked Merlin when he found it free of pesky wards. Performing a quick but complicated unlocking charm, he quickly slid inside.

He approached the figure in the bed slowly, his eyes drinking in the sight of a vulnerable and defenseless Draco Malfoy. Never had such a thing happened in all his years living with the boy. His mate always hid behind a mask of haughty demeanor and aloof civility. Not a single person could call himself a confidante of the boy without being a called a liar. His whole house had always flocked to him, afraid of his father's influence and more than a little cowed by his indiscriminating cruelty. They laughed at his lame jokes and pretended to hang on his every word. He had more power than any student in their House. By default he was crowned their ruler, for if Gryffindor had their golden boy in Harry Potter, Slytherin had its silver prince in Draco Malfoy. After all, it was hard to dispute the Head of House's godson. The extent of his reign also extended outside the dingy walls of the dungeon. He led by example and his behavior was mirrored by all. Tolerate the boring Ravenclaws, ridicule the pathetic Hufflepuffs and antagonize the brash Gryffindors. The last was probably the most ambiguous one, for everyone could be snide to all Gryffindors except one. It was an unspoken rule that they all learned the hard way. You did not mess with Harry Potter unless you wanted to be in pain. Nobody messes with Potter, except Draco. It was something that Blaise knew Theodore wouldn't likely forget. The boy had vicious night terrors for a month. So it was no surprise that the people he was constantly with were mere minions instead of true friends. Blaise had often envied him. How could he not? Never in a million years would he have as much power, influence or cold beauty as a Malfoy. But now…now that he was staring at their prince, lying there scarred and broken by his own father, he couldn't help but think that maybe the boy everyone envied wasn't as fortunate as he once thought.

He set his wrapped bundle on the bedside table. His hand trembling as he fingered his wand. It would be so easy, so extremely ridiculously easy to kill him right now. Just a flick of his wrist and unforgiving words on his lips and it would be done. After what he witnessed today, he would surely be honored and cherished above all because of such a feat. All the Slytherins knew exactly what transpired between father and son, having cast the Translation Spell surreptitiously. He knew Malfoy Senior would be undoubtedly pleased. Hell! He might even get special recognition from the Dark Lord himself! He would be hailed as a hero for killing a pureblood traitor. He would finally get what he had been pining for all those years: power, influence and esteem. Things he could no doubt snatch from the boy lying prone before him if he only had the strength to kill the boy in cold blood.

He raised his wand and pointed deftly, his hand shaking violently. Then steeling himself, he whispered hoarsely, "Avada Kedavra!"

He waited for the rush of green light to envelope the thin boy. He listened for the rushing sound of death and resolution to come bearing down upon him. But it did not come. He stared at the sleeping boy numbly for a second before switching his gaze to his defective wand. What the hell? Why didn't it work? Dawning realization settled in his mind as he recalled words long ago whispered in his ear by the very boy he was trying to kill.

"Blaise, you old softy!" Draco had laughed, amusement lining his face. "You need to mean it, in order to make it hurt. You need to be burned by the all consuming hatred for the person you are trying to torture. You need to want his pain so badly; you can lick your lips and taste it. Cruelty, after all, is not for the weak-willed."

Snorting at the memory, Blaise stowed away his wand. "You're fortunate that I am weak-willed, you lucky bastard!' But then when one memory about the blonde had resurfaced, others seemed to follow after it in their own accord until he came to one that he could not ignore.

He was crying desolately in the corner of what he thought to be a deserted room. It was his first night away from home and he missed his mum greatly. He was also very confused and more than a little bit frightened by his intimidating House mates. No one had really been overtly friendly to him. They all seemed to know what to do and where they fit in, while he on the other hand had been left out, sitting in the corner all by his lonesome. He wished his father had allowed him to be home schooled like his cousins instead.

"Merlin! Are you crying?" a drawl startled him and he whirled around quickly, trying to wipe all evidence of such.

"No!" he protested vehemently though a choked hiccup ruined his already shaky denial.

The blonde boy sneered and walked closer to him, only stopping when he was an inch from his face. "I think you are. You shouldn't be. Boys don't cry. Father says it's undignified."

Blaise blinked at the boy but before he could even form an answer, his shoulder was grasped firmly by pale aristocratic hands. "Come on, the other boys are meeting up in my dorm room for a game of Exploding Snap. It's so boring here that I could AK myself. Father was right. This place has really gone to the dogs!"

And from that moment on, Blaise found himself included. Whether it be pranks on the other Houses, a midnight kitchen raid or mischievous exploration of the castle he was always invited to tag along. Even if it was done imperiously, thoughtlessly and impatiently each and every time with varying versions of "Hurry up, Zabini!". He could not deny that Draco Malfoy had always given him a place to belong in Slytherin.

He sighed and cursed his asinine sensibilities which would likely cost him an opportunity of a lifetime. Nevertheless, he would find others. He wasn't really letting his chance go, more like choosing to forego it until the most satisfying moment. He stepped closer to the fallen prince and promised him firmly. "You'll pay for this. You said it yourself; nothing in this world is free."

Then before he could change his mind, he turned and hastily walked out of the room. He left without a backwards glance, knowing that the next time he laid eyes on the boy he would really be his enemy.

Hours later, Draco awoke with a start as he rubbed at his eyes and tried to get his bearings. Confusion lining his face, he looked around his surroundings and grimaced. Right. He was in the Infirmary after he fainted like a pansy on the last day of school. He sighed, tempted to just burrow back into the warmth of the bed and forget the whole world but he knew he couldn't. Too many conflicting and bewildering thoughts were running through his head for him to find any peace now. 

He cursed the headmaster again for not answering his questions. It was frustrating to feel so insanely out of sorts. He had never felt so confused in his whole life and he did not like the feeling. Malfoys were supposed to be knowledgeable and aware of all things and all sides of the conversation. The mere thought that he was not any of those right now grated heavily on his nerves. He glanced at the clock on the wall and groaned when he saw it was already well into the afternoon. He missed the train then. _Great! How the hell am I suppose to explain this to Mother? _He thought anxiously. _I do hope Dumbledore owled her about all this! _He wouldn't want her to fret if he didn't show up at the station. Actually come to think of it, she should be here by now. He was surprised the woman wasn't storming through the halls, demanding to see her son like she did back in Fourth Year during the incident with Moody. She had been livid then, Draco was interested in the different gruesome threats she'd be no doubt issuing to the wanker that cursed him now.

Shifting gingerly, Draco cautiously tried to sit up. He hissed as the fragile skin on his chest stung a bit as it brushed against his bandage. Damn! What the hell did that bastard do to him? He winced as he cautiously swung his leg on the side of the bed. He stood on shaky legs and made to get the nurse when a nondescript package sitting on his bedside table caught his eye. Curious and more than a bit suspicious of the mysterious parcel, especially after having recently survived an attempt on his life, he fumbled for his wand only to find that he didn't know where the blasted thing was. _Damn that old coot! Damn him to hell in a hand basket! Where the bloody fuck is my wand? _He thought frantically as he searched through his clothes and the whole room. He couldn't find it anywhere! Grumbling obscenities under his breath, he cautiously approached the package once more.

It was a curious thing, this parcel. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, quite long and looked to be fairly heavy. Fearing it to be a cursed Dark Arts artifact, but refusing to be cowed by such a thing, Draco crept towards it slowly and nervously plucked out the note that was attached to it. He quickly read it and was hit with a deeper sense of bewilderment. What the fuck?

You owe me.

One sentence, that was all, almost as if the writer didn't want anyone else to understand. Deciding to make use of the fact that he was in the Infirmary and how it would be the perfect place to be if he did get cursed to hell and back, Draco tore at the paper anxiously and was promptly struck dumb when he saw the object within.

He blinked once to determine its validity and sure enough it was still there. His hands tingled at being able to hold it again. His eyes watered suspiciously at the sight. For there, in his hands, lay nestled his old beloved sword.

He didn't think he would ever see it again. Especially since he had foolishly wagered it on a bet one drunken night in Third year and had promptly lost it to Blaise. He nearly lost his head when the bastard collected it from him, all smug and sneering, crowing happily about obtaining what he thought to be a Malfoy heirloom. Not that he gave in to his rage; after all, a Malfoy was always gracious. Besides he thought he'd be winning it back soon enough. Well, that proved to be the biggest miscalculation in his life because Zabini, the fucking wanker, was positively sinful in his luck with cards. He had long given up hope in winning it back and had actually resorted to devious plotting before he got sidetracked with everything that happened the year after.

But now…now he had it back. But why? Why would Zabini give it back to him on the last day of school? Especially since the git cherished it for more than was healthy and had actually taken to polishing it every night before bed? Why would he part with it now, especially on this day? And that note, it sounded far too sinister to Draco. It could mean a thousand different things. Perhaps Zabini needed something from him or his father? He snorted. It would take a lot for a Malfoy to be indebted to someone. Although, Zabini definitely knew the right place to start. He loved this sword, not only for its beauty and its symbolic meaning but also because it was responsible for the best moment in his life.

**Flashback**  
_  
Draco stood in the grass, playing with his toy snitch that he'd gotten as an early birthday present from his mother. His tutors were done with him for the day and he had finally managed to finagle his mother into letting him play outside. It was as glorious as he remembered it to be. The sun was brilliantly shining and warming his upturned face, the grass was cool underneath his feet as he ran around, having taken off his shoes. He knew he shouldn't, knew without a doubt that running around barefoot like a commoner would ignite his parents' wrath if they ever caught him. But the glade looked so soft and inviting that he couldn't resist its call. He flung his arms wide, laughing gleefully as he ran, savoring the fresh air rushing in his ears and the tickling of the grass beneath his feet. He gave chase to the lazy snitch that was flying slowly above his head, delighting in the simple joy of it all. It was rare that he got a moment like this, especially since his godfather, who was the only one who often played with him, was gone a lot these days._

"Draco! What are you doing? Put your arms down!" a sharp voice barked at him, immediately making him stiffen with fear.

Oh no! Father! He thought horrified at the picture he made with his hair mussed, shirt rumpled and barefoot. He scrambled to where his shoes were and frantically put them on, combing his hair and straightening his clothes in the process. Struggling not to pant like a horse, Draco halted in front of Lucius. "Father, I-"

"None of your excuses, boy! It seems you have forgotten what etiquette dictates for a Malfoy! Although honestly I don't know how since I spent hours drilling it into your brain! It seems we have a ways to go." Lucius snapped at his eight year old son, disappointment and anger lining his face.

"Yes, father." Draco intoned dejectedly, his heart breaking at the displeasure he found in his father's tone. Darn it! Why did he have to insist on playing in the gardens like a plebian child? He knew it wasn't something Malfoys do and yet he still did it anyway. Why couldn't he be more like his father? What was wrong with him?

"Come inside. I will call you to the carpet later for this behavior but right now there is something I must show you." Lucius beckoned as he turned and swept back into the house, confident that his son would follow him.

Rushing to keep up with his father, whose strides were much longer than his own, Draco wondered what on earth his father wanted to show him. He dared not voice his query, however. He had learned that childish questions like that were the quickest way to receive a snide reprimand. So he squashed his innate curiosity and followed his father to his den in silence.

"You are turning nine soon, Draco, and tradition dictates that you start training with this." Lucius stated and with a flick of his wand the Japanese sword that Draco had often admired when he came into this room floated from its place on the mantle and settled heavily on his lap. He was nearly bowled over by its weight. It was not like the French rapiers that decorated Lucius' study, ones that were part of the ancestral Malfoy heirlooms. Instead, it was considerably a newer blade and it was lighter than all the swords in the room. A Japanese katana that his father acquired from one of his numerous travels. Draco didn't even know that the sword was usable. He thought it far too pretty and delicate to be a weapon but apparently he was wrong.

"My father gave me one like it when I was your age and I learned to wield it soon after, although, mine was a proper French blade. After all, impeccable swordsmanship has been a pureblood characteristic since the dawn of Merlin. We, Malfoys, naturally excel in it. I expect the same from you, son. Maybe one day you'll be worthy of the real Malfoy ancestral sword instead of this shoddy foreign version." Lucius said imperiously as he surveyed the boy closely. "Do make sure you don't disappoint me? It becomes tiresome."

Nodding fervently, Draco eagerly examined his treasure, his expressive grey eyes shining with disbelief and awe. He couldn't believe his father would give him this! That he would believe him worthy of such a thing. Determination and resolve coursed through him as he swore firmly to master the use of this weapon. Even if it was twice his size and was heavier than anything he'd ever carried. He would do everything in his power to be every bit as deserving of this treasure as his father wanted him to be.

And so he did. Over the course of countless hours, he would practice his swordsmanship. He learned from the best hired tutors that galleons had to offer, but the lessons he enjoyed the most were the ones with his godfather. He practiced and learned until his knees would give out from exhaustion. He thrust and parried and blocked until he was sore and panting. He held on tightly to his precious sword until his knuckles bled and the weight of the sword tipped him over. But with every defeat, he still stood up, he picked up his sword each time he fell, dusted himself primly and tried once again even if it was to be sent back to the ground he'd just come from.

And it was all made worth it one fateful autumn day when he was diligently practicing with Severus. He finally scored a hit against the man who had dodged them all before. He smiled gaily at the frozen man who looked like he was just stunned without a wand. Elated, Draco began to laugh and shout, "I did it! I did it! I finally did it!"

He stiffened imperceptibly when he noticed his father leaning against a corner of the room, obviously having watched the session. The nine year old quickly ceased his ridiculous antics and waited dejectedly for the inevitable reprimand. But all his father said when Draco finally got the courage to look him in the eye was, "You will do."

And after nine years of lonely existence, the glint of pride in his father's eyes, coupled with those words, cemented that day into his mind as the day he finally felt he was his father's son.  
  
**End of flash back**

Draco shook his head to free it from the cherished memory. There was still a curious pain that lanced through his chest whenever he thought of the imprisoned Malfoy patriarch. His father who had fallen from grace and was now caged like a rabid dog. His father whom he would be defying if he chose his allegiance elsewhere. He sighed as he placed the sword on the table. What could he do? He still hadn't decided. Could he really leave his father?

Suddenly a barrage of sensations assaulted his mind. He clutched at his head in pain as a million lights, sounds and voices whispered in his mind.

_You are a coward, Draco_

a ridiculous dreamer

Don't make me

hurt you

Slytherin or not

You will not succeed

Do you

Love me

So easy

If I did

Wouldn't be

This is easy.

"NO!" He screamed as he shook his head frantically, his mind tangled by confusing thoughts. His eyes stinging as he held back tears of pain.

"Draco!" Madam Pomfrey called out as she came bursting into the room. The wards that were tied to her patient's health had alerted her of Draco's distress. "Here drink this! It will relieve the pain." She urged as she tipped the cup and forced the boy to swallow the disgusting concoction. "I know it's not the tastiest thing in the world but it will help." She murmured soothingly as she quickly cast diagnostic tests on the distressed boy.

Draco gratefully drank down the potion, not even flinching at its vile taste. He knew from his godfather that the best potions were the ones that weren't diluted by artificial flavoring. He sighed heavily as he slumped back down on his bed, the aching pain in his head gradually reducing to a gentle throb. "Thank you." He whispered hoarsely as he tried to even his staccato breathing.

Poppy smiled sadly at the pained boy. "Of course, dear. Now why don't you take a rest again, hmm? I'll get you a nice cuppa and some Sleeping Draught. You're still not fully recovered."

"And what exactly am I supposed to be recovering from?" Draco asked sharply, irritated at being treated like an inane child, even if a small part of himself reveled at being coddled so kindly. It had been years, after all, since he was treated in such a way.

Unimpressed by this show of temper, Poppy pursed her lips. "It is not my place to tell you, Draco. But the headmaster should be down momentarily. I was told to get him when you woke up. I'm sure he can answer your questions better than I can." She explained kindly.

Not to be swayed from his objective by placating words, Draco shot back angrily. "Well, what are you waiting for? I'm awake! Aren't you supposed to be getting him right about now?"

Bristling a little at the resurgence of the cold mask that the boy usually wore, Poppy answered evenly. "I was just making sure you were alright since you were screaming in pain when I came in. Now if you'll hold still a couple of seconds and let me do some more diagnostic spells, I will fetch him for you."

Horrified at being chastised, Draco nodded stiffly, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment. _Honestly! To be reprimanded like a child! This day just keeps getting better and better!_ He thought with a snort.

Shaking her head, Poppy tried to soothe the boy's ruffled feathers. "Alright. I will alert the headmaster. Is there anything else you need? Are you hungry? You haven't eaten yet since breakfast."

"I'm alright. Just get him." Draco said tersely, his face turned away from concerned brown eyes.

Sighing Poppy made to take her leave when a question stopped her midway. "Can I go to the Owlery? I need to owl my mother. She must be fretting by now."

Poppy shook her head. "You cannot leave the Infirmary right now, Draco. Who knows if you get another attack half way there and you break open your head? Write your mum. I will make sure she gets it."

"What? No! I'll do it myself! The Owlery is only just down the Hall. I can do that by myself easily! How dare you imply that I'm that ridiculously weak!" Draco bristled once more, anger and frustration making him more than a little temperamental.

"You are sick and you are in my charge. You will stay here until I deem you fit to leave." Poppy stated briskly, her tone not brooking any arguments.

"But-" Draco tried to appeal, and probably in a not so kind manner either, but he was cut off.

"Rest, Draco. You've had a weary day. It can wait." Poppy said kindly before she turned and left.

Ignoring the nurse's instructions, Draco shot out of his bed. He quickly strode over to the door, trying to pry it open. But the stupid thing wouldn't budge! He groaned as he pulled with all his might, throwing his full weight into pulling open the blasted door but it remained tightly closed. "Fucking hell!" Draco snarled as he kicked the door, more than furious that he was being locked in like some errant child. What is it with people and their fascination for imprisoning Malfoys?

He stomped angrily towards a chair beside his bed and kicked it ferociously, his inner turmoil finally reaching its volatile peak. He had been more than patient when he woke up the first time and hadn't remembered anything. He was more than reasonable when he didn't hex the cow for drugging him to sleep earlier. But he would not stand to be caged! He would not tolerate being locked up like some sort of rabid dog! He would not! He was a Malfoy and they should never be treated as such! Not by Dumbledore or that fussy nurse! Not by the Dark Lord! Not by the Ministry! Not by anyone!

Growling low in his throat, he grabbed his sword angrily and unsheathed it. Working his jaw, he stood in the ready stance Severus had taught him. If they wouldn't let him out then so be it but he would not sit here and wait patiently like a docile puppet. He would exercise his demons and if the room was destroyed in the process, well he really couldn't be faulted for that.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to calm by counting his breaths. It had been forever since he held this sword and he wanted to savor the moment and become lost to it. Maybe then he could find solace from this confusing day.

Opening his eyes, he fluidly began his routine warm up. He lunged and thrust his sword forward. Then he swerved to the right and leapt up. He brought his sword down crushingly, breaking a wooden chair that was positioned there. Pivoting on the ball of his right foot, he swung around as he blocked an imaginary assault. He countered by swinging his sword and executing a sideway thrust.

Over and over it went, until he got lost in the dance of fluid motion. He thrust, parried, blocked in effortless movement. He leapt and lunged and swung gracefully. The more he practiced, the more he lost himself in something he had once loved so much because of the pride he saw in his father's eyes. And in this one moment, he lost himself. He let go of the tension that was pressing down on his chest and niggling worry that was gnawing in his mind. He even let go of the dark sense of foreboding that was slowly freezing his insides whenever he thought about what could have happened. Instead, like he did on the Pitch last night, he focused on this. Just this. Because the longer he practiced, the more his strength returned. And it dawned on him that maybe with stolen moments like these, the rest of the time wouldn't be so bad.

Panting heavily now with his body coated in a light sheen of sweat, Draco took a break as he gulped down a mouthful of water, not even caring that some of it splashed his front. He surveyed the remains of the room with a smirk. _That should teach the woman to detain a Malfoy! It's the last day of school! They can't keep me here! _He thought angrily.

Sighing and deciding it would be pointless to whine about it, especially since there was no one to torture with his whinging, he resumed his stance and got ready for another round. However, before doing so, he irately grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, breathing a sigh of relief as he did so. The cool air caressed his bare skin. He was getting really warm and the itchy bandages were only serving to annoy him. He flexed his back and was about to resume his workout when suddenly he heard it.

A hitch of breath.

Lightning fast, he quickly lunged at the area from where he heard the noise and positioned his blade. "There is only one person who I think is insane enough to spy on me but not kill me outright. I better not be right because if I am there is no place on earth that you can hide from my wrath. Haven't you had an eyeful yet?" Draco growled as he inched the sharp blade forward. Cocking an eyebrow, he smirked. "Potter?"

And for the second time in two days, he was treated to a shimmer of light that quickly uncovered one violently blushing Harry Potter.

"Um…Oops?" 

Lucius strode quickly into the darkened chamber, his back ramrod straight and his face affixed in an unreadable mask. He knew what awaited him inside, had known it since he had failed to acquire his son, which was another reason for detesting the boy. Lucius was barely able contain the flinch of fear skittering up his spine as he stepped into the room and saw Voldemort looking none too pleased. He quickly got down on one knee, ready to explain himself. "My sincerest apologies, master, I had no idea that my son would-"

"Silence!" Voldemort snarled from where he was seated. "Did I give you permission to speak in my presence? Do not forget your place. Just because I purchased your freedom today, does not mean you are any less expandable. How dare you take liberties with me!"

Visibly flinching now, Lucius bowed lower, biting his tongue lest another flurry of apologies fly from his mouth. He could already tell that this meeting would not end well.

"I heard news that you have disowned your son because of his unwillingness to join us. Is this true, Lucius? Did you raise a Pureblood traitor?" Voldemort asked lightly, as if he was discussing the weather, but Lucius inwardly cringed all the same, having been in his master's presence long enough to determine the dangerous edge buried in his words.

"Yes, master, I have disowned him." Lucius answered cautiously. "I would have never thought I raised such a fool. He always took after Narcissa. I should have seen it from the start. I should have killed him the day he couldn't master all the Unforgivables." He clenched his fists in bitter anger.

"Your regrets are useless to me, Lucius! You should have killed him then if you had doubts all along!" Voldemort spat out. "I taught you better than this! Your mercy will cost you. Crucio!"

Voldemort smirked as he watched the blonde writhing in pain with avid fascination. The blonde's screams echoed through the fortress. He sighed happily as he closed his eyes in bliss. Lucius always screamed so prettily. He couldn't wait to see if the son took after his father. He smiled as he thought of the boy, no doubt younger and more attractive than Lucius. He licked his lips in anticipation. He would find so much pleasure in destroying something so beautiful.

_Perrectum._

**Exinde:**  
_  
Vincit omnia veritas. _

Truth conquers all.

**AN:** Yes, ahem You thought Lucius was bad? Wait until the darkest wizard in a hundred years! LOL And whatever will Harry and Draco talk about in that warded room? cackles evilly Thank you for all your wonderful comments. I'm delighted that there is a growing group of people who are enjoying this. It keeps me updating regularly if I think this story is loved other than by me. So tell me what you think! Did you like this chapter? Oh and how was Lucius? Voldemort?

Love it? Hate it? Comments are ♥


	10. Act X

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy   
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Rating: **NC-17 for violence and language  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU, No HBP Spoilers. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.  
**Beta:** the wonderfu micolerose  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?

**Act X**

Vincit omnia veritas. 

_Truth conquers all._

Voldemort watched the writhing man with avid fascination, a mixture of pure bliss and great malice flittering through his red eyes. An hour had gone by and still he was relentless in his torture. He was greatly displeased by Lucius' failure, which came at the heels of Voldemort's having to rectify his last one. Needless to say the Dark Lord's patience with the blonde had grown thin, which is why Lucius was still writhing violently on the hard floor. His body was thrashing wildly, his skin bruising and scraping against the jagged ground, blood starting to seep from the vicious cuts. The Dark Lord smiled at such an enticing sight. The magnificent red of Lucius' pure blood staining the stark contrast of his pale bone white skin. It was marvelous! There was no such better artistry than the heady mix of beauty and pain. Even as a child, he had loved breaking his toys, almost as much as he did acquiring them. He was always utterly fascinated by the bending and twisting of plastic limbs and the satisfying snap of synthetic material breaking. It was always one of his few treasured childhood memories. Approaching footsteps shook him from his reverie and he smiled sardonically at the man who had immediately knelt before him.

"Ah, Severus. There you are." Voldemort greeted the kneeling man with a predatory smile.

"My Lord. I came as soon as you called." Severus intoned evenly, although inside he was crowing like a happy pig in the mud at the sight that had greeted him when he'd stepped inside the chamber. Cruciatus had never looked so good as when applied to Lucius Malfoy. _Serves you right you foul, loathsome bastard!_ Severus thought viciously.

"Did you?" Voldemort asked with cocked eyebrow. "Did you really? I bet you had to ask permission to take your leave from the old fool."

Not liking where this was going one bit, Severus struggled to find a good way of answering. "To keep appearances, I had to, My Lord. It was the only way I could keep my position secret so I can still be able to serve you."

Smiling darkly, Voldemort advanced towards the dark bowed head. He wordlessly ended the curse on Lucius and ignored the tortured man's hoarse gratitude as he came to a stop before his spy. "I wonder, Severus, if that is such the case. The brat was your godson, was he not? Perhaps you stayed a bit later to check up on the traitor? Perhaps that is what kept you." He smiled dangerously at the prostrating man. "Didn't you care for him? Perhaps you even knew of his choice and did not turn him in?" His voice had dropped down to a malevolent hiss at the last question.

Struggling not to blanch visibly at the naked accusation in the Dark Lord's red eyes, Severus tried to think of a way to diffuse the situation. Hell and damnation! He didn't know the bloody tables would be turned on him! "I cared for him as a child out of duty. He has never been anything but a means to an end, Master. I have no loyalty to the spoilt brat. His arrogance has always grated my nerves and I am more than enraged to have suffered his existence for nothing." Severus lied deftly, immediately putting up his mental shields wandlessly. He had to be careful, constructing them in such a way that it didn't make the Dark Lord suspicious by their strength but making them sturdy enough to cover his tracks. And this was why, when Voldemort made to enter his mind, he was ready. He didn't survive more than twenty years as a spy without learning a thing or two.

With a twisted smile on his thin lips, Voldemort lifted his wand with great malice and said, "We'll see about that. Legilimens!"

Severus stiffened at the invasion, no matter how ready he was for it. It was a peculiar kind of torture to have your mind entered as brutally as the Dark Lord had a penchant for doing. He haphazardly rifled through his memories, stopping and enjoying the painful ones. Severus opened his mind to the violation. Gently coaxing Voldemort's search into more ambiguous memories rather than the tender ones he had of the boy. He focused solely on the moments when he truly did feel exasperation and irritation for the boy because he really was as stubborn and arrogant as his father at times. It always drove him insane when the boy would copy his father's tone and demeanor. It always irked him that the boy had made for such a perfect minute version of Lucius. One was bad enough! It also helped that he had distanced himself from the boy as he grew older. It hurt to do so but it was the best thing to do and his decision, no matter how painful, was the right one because it saved him now from a similar appointment with the hard ground like the one Lucius had just endured.

"You speak truth. That is a wise decision, Severus." Voldemort intoned with a thin smile at the gasping man. As always he had left the man's mind with such force that it sent Severus sinking further down on his knees from the violence of his exit.

"Of course, Master." Severus managed to choke out painfully, his mind still reeling from the force of the impact. "I live only to serve your needs."

"Good." Voldemort smiled maliciously, his red eyes glinting with terrifying mischievousness. "Because I am in need of your particular services. I need you to use your position at that loathsome school and stay close to the brat. Draco is young and still very much impressionable; he is not lost to our cause yet. I expect you to succeed where Lucius has failed. Can you do that?" He smirked as he fingered his wand delicately and Severus fought down the urge to swallow nervously at the sight that signified the beginning of most torture sessions.

"If it's my master's will, it shall be done." Severus answered evenly, his thoughts whirling with a thousand different implications of his new mission. How could he save Draco if he was the one being used to lure him back into the dark? This would need some strenuous planning and maneuvering.

"Good. I trust in your abilities, Severus. Do not fail me. You know intimately the price of doing so." Voldemort warned flippantly as he turned his back on the man, dismissing him in such a way while he returned to his seat.

Struggling not to breathe a sigh of blessed relief at having miraculously escaped the pain of Cruciatus, Severus hastily stood up, bowed once more and began to take his leave. He was almost out the door and away from the horrid place when a dark voice stopped him in his tracks.

"And if you fail, Severus. If you do not bring him back into the fold. Kill him. Traitors do not live. You know that better than anyone. If there is even a hint of one amongst my ranks, they should be dealt with mercilessly. So if he cannot be turned-" Voldemort smiled darkly as he turned his head to watch Lucius take in the news. "Kill him by rites of Juddeca."

Red eyes narrowed shrewdly as he examined his weakened right hand man and was intrigued to find only confusion there. Sneering, Voldemort turned back quickly to the departing man. "Oh and Severus, never keep me waiting again. Crucio!" He smiled as he watched his spy writhing in pain with avid fascination.

"Yes, of course, my Lord." Severus managed to bite out after his master had lifted the curse, leaving at a quicker pace, lest the bastard detain him again for Merlin knows what else.

Sharp cruel laughter resounded in the desolate chamber as Voldemort chuckled in amusement at Severus' abrupt departure. The always sinister and somber man had all but turned on his heels and run away with his tail tucked in between his legs. He shook his head wryly, his Death Eaters never failed to amuse him. He rose from his chair and without a second glance to the blonde that was still supplicated and twitching before his chair, he left the room.

Lucius could hardly restrain himself from breathing a sigh of relief as the Dark Lord left the room, finally assured that his torment was thankfully over for today. It was doubly hard to occlude his mind from his master's all seeing gaze and he was sure if the Dark Lord had stayed a second longer, his tumultuous thoughts about the whole situation would have come tumbling out and that would simply not do. It was really a credit to his strict upbringing that Lucius, even in his weakened state, was able to mask any reaction towards the order to kill his son like a traitorous pig. It would not do to give away his feelings towards the mission because he knew that it would dictate the terms of his punishment. Whether by lengthening it with more sessions under Cruciatus or end it completely with a Killing Curse. He hadn't worked this long for the Dark Lord without learning the subtle signs that indicated his master's mood. His lord was testing him and he didn't know enough right now to decipher what the correct reaction was that he needed to display.

Inwardly, however, he was furious. His pride stung painfully from the blow of having Severus clean up the mess that was his son. His fury was sparked even more by that smug vindictive look in the bastard's eye that he caught while he was writhing pathetically on the ground. How dare the half-blood be amused by his torment! He had shared what others might consider a friendship with the dark haired man before, because they were often forced to work closely, but that had diminished over the years. Especially after the Ministry trials when all of them were force-fed Veritaserum like ordinary ruffians while he stood on the side watching calmly, forever shielded by that senile old bastard. Lucius had never quite gotten over the fact that he had to be led into trial like some common mongrel while Severus had gotten off scot-free with a mere word from Dumbledore. Suspicion and envy had taken root back then and it flared anew once more. The wily bastard was once again walking away from him as Lucius lay battered and beaten whilst he retained the favor of their lord and now the life of his son.

His eyes glinted malevolently as he pondered this new development. Severus would not have the upper hand for long. He sure as hell would not be the judge that held the balance to his son's life. Only he had that power, not some shifty old spy whose allegiances have been called into question more than once. Only he should have the power over Draco and Merlin help those who took that away. Disowned or not, Draco was still his. Draco may no longer be a Malfoy, but he would not be anyone else's either. _Pity that Severus will have to learn that the hard way._ He smirked widely as he collected himself carefully. There was much planning to be done for him to get back into the good graces of the Dark Lord. He ignored staunchly the fact that by acting this way, he was actually actively going against Voldemort in order to protect a son he had disowned. He ignored it even more when the pain that had settled in his chest ever since he left Hogwarts that morning loosened a little because of it. He was not doing this because of any wishy washy sentimentality over the boy! He sneered as he walked stiffly away. Severus Snape would soon regret going against Lucius Malfoy. No one takes what is his.

**Meanwhile back in a warded room of the Infirmary at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Draco smirked so hard, he thought his face would break as he heard the Gryffindor's smashing defense for his intrusion. "Oops? Why, Potter, even as livid as I am right now, I can't help but be amused by your subhuman conversational skills! Tell me does being this incompetent come naturally to you or do you have to work at it?" He said scathingly.

Harry, for his part, could only stutter vaguely in response. His eyes still glued to the drops of glistening sweat that were traveling slowly down hard planes of slick pale skin that had mesmerized him enough to stupidly let his guard down. He licked his lips unconsciously, his cheeks tinting with a violent blush as he tried to will his thoughts and eyes away from the erotic sight. _Get a fucking grip! What the bloody hell are you doing, just staring at him like a sodding idiot! _He berated himself inwardly as he tried to get his bearings. _Say something! Anything! And for god's sakes stop drooling! You are not turned on by this at all! You are just faint from this emotionally exhausting day which is why you feel this –er- moved by Draco._ His inner voiced reassured him as he searched for a way to regain his composure. Why the hell did he ever think sneaking in invisibly with Madame Pomfrey after he had heard Draco screaming was a good idea?

He had been conversing with the nurse when they first heard the screams coming from Draco's warded door and both of them had hastened to the room. However, just as they were about to reach the door, Madame Pomfrey had turned to him and strictly forbade him from entering. He should have listened then. Even more so when Hermione and Ron had protested against it but the pain filled screams that were still emanating from the closed door had tugged mysteriously and viciously at his heart. He had to figure out what was wrong with Draco. He couldn't stand idly by a second time as the Slytherin was assaulted and tortured before him once more. So, summoning his cloak, he quickly stole inside the room, ignoring the protests that were being shouted at him in his wake. 

The screaming had stopped, thank Merlin, when he'd stepped into the room and he smiled when he heard Draco's usual requests and demands. He never thought he'd see a day when he'd be glad to see that infuriating smirk but there it was. He was relieved that Draco felt better enough to be his usual bratty self. He was about to leave the room. Really, he was, but then the sight of that sword, and how Draco had held it, piqued his interest. He'd never seen joy in the boy's face, not even a genuine smile. So he was more than fascinated when he saw it in the Slytherin's face now. The smile smoothed the hard lines of his face and made him seem even more beautiful and delicate. But the real difference was in the eyes. No more the color of cold, steel grey but one of luminous, sparkling silver. And then…then he raised that sword and from his very first swing, Harry was ensnared. He marveled at a side of the Slytherin he had never seen before. One that was not only marked with elegant grace but also fused with a deep passion and unrelenting drive that left him breathless. He had never seen Draco so consumed and so lost in the moment as he was now. Not even in their most grueling Quidditch matches. He couldn't have turned away from the sight even if Voldemort himself had used Imperio on him. But he should have! He knew that stealing another glimpse like this would infuriate the blonde beyond belief and Draco didn't need this added aggravation! He resolved to make this up to the blonde if he was able to live through his wrath right now, that blade of his was looking awfully dangerous.

After proceeding to virtually rip the bastard a new one, Draco had stopped his tirade when he realized the fucking knob wasn't even listening to him. Enraged by this and irked beyond belief that his peace was disrupted for the third sodding time in the last forty eight hours by the Boy Who Lived to Perv on him, he decided to retaliate the only way he knew how. If his words wouldn't reach the git, his blade would.

"Look, Draco! I'm sorry alright! Merlin! Watch it with that sword!" Harry cried out as he took a step back, barely dodging a particularly vicious thrust from Draco.

"You watch it, Potter! Because when I'm done, I'll be skewering you with it!" Draco spat viciously, unappeased in the slightest by Potter's spluttering apology. He had been looking for a way to relieve his tumultuous feelings and if the git was stupid enough to disrupt the one activity that was allowing him to do this then so be it! He'd exorcise his demons on the Gryffindor instead!

"Whoa! Take it easy! Look, I'm sorry I snuck up on you like that. I didn't mean anything by it honest!" Harry protested as he dropped and rolled to his left to miss another attack. He was increasingly becoming worried as Draco's thrusts grew more dangerous. Was the blonde really trying to kill him?

Draco smirked as he advanced on the retreating Gryffindor once more, inwardly crowing at the hint of fear in those emerald eyes, instantly becoming addicted to that look. Perhaps this was the reason why Voldemort liked to go after this boy so much, if only to see such a sight of jarring intensity. Those emerald eyes held a sliver of fear as the brunette dodged the continuous assaults but it also burned with bright defiance. Draco had never seen it before and it intrigued him, a combination of strength against weakness which was strangely beautiful. And cornering Potter like this, when the boy wasn't retaliating and merely dodging his attacks made him feel powerful and vulnerable all at once. He didn't understand it and a part of himself didn't want to.

He renewed the viciousness of his attacks. Confusion and anger warring inside him, he should not feel anything but contempt for this boy! Enraged at himself for being momentarily disarmed by the rush of emotions that bordered on tender, he delivered blow upon accurate blow on the Gryffindor. Hollowly satisfied by each howl of pain and every thread of blood, he could have gone on for hours but the boy's unresponsiveness galled him to an abrupt stop. "Why aren't you fighting back? Fight me!" He screamed angrily, livid that the boy would deny him this. Their fights were always a good fallback. Why wouldn't the bastard cooperate?

"Because you need this." Harry rasped out painfully as he winced at the pain of the cuts that marred his arms. They were shallow ones and he thanked Merlin for that. "Because I owe it to you."

"You owe me a lot of things, Potter, but you've never indulged me before so why the hell start now? Get your sword! We'll have a proper wizard's duel. This time with swords like proper aristocrats, although that description could never be applied to you. Nevertheless, you're the only one who's here so you'll have to do. Come on now. Get you sword, the one everybody says Gryffindor gave you in Second year, you flashy bastard! Let's fight like real men!"

Harry shook his head sadly, seeing accurately through Draco's anger. "No. I won't fight you. Not like this."

"Why?" Draco snarled, livid at being denied. "Why the fuck not? This is what enemies do, you stupid prick! We fight. Now I have a sword and you don't, so run along and get yours. I know this might be an unfair fight since your little dog didn't have enough time to teach you how to use a sword like a real man but I'm willing to be gracious. I'll even give you an advantage." Draco taunted snidely.

"Shut up about him! Leave him out of this!" Harry spat as he balled his fists. The mention of Sirius still stung after all these years and a slight on his godfather never failed to spark his temper and the bloody Slytherin knew that full well. He forced himself to calm down. Rising to the git's bait would not help matters, neither would getting into a duel right now. As irritating as Draco was being, he still needed to be conscious of the blonde's feelings. He was going through a rough ordeal.

Smirking at the visible anger on the Gryffindor's face, Draco continued to mock him, his heart soaring at finally getting a reaction. Maybe then the idiot would fight him and things would finally get interesting. Maybe then he'd get some damned honest answers for once! "Aww. Is the poor Gryffindor sad about losing his dog? Does he want to cry? Believe me, Potter, that's only the first of many. Although you might have gotten used to it by now, after all your parents did die for you! The people around you drop like flies. I wonder who could be next? The Mudblood maybe? Or perhaps the Weasel King and his family? "

"I said shut up!" Harry snarled once more as he repeatedly told himself that decking the annoying blonde would be a bad idea. _He has just been through hell. You shouldn't take anything he says seriously! _He warned himself as he reigned in his temper.

"I don't get how anyone would want to follow you! Chosen one, indeed! You can't even save your dog! How the hell can you save anyone else? How can there be anything special about you? Your facial scar? If I jab my forehead would that make me famous too? Eh Potter?" Draco sneered and spat with so much hate that it took Harry aback.

"Look, I didn't ask for this!" Harry began to protest but Draco cut him off.

"I don't even care if you did! Just tell me what all of your lot has been avoiding! Why am I in this Infirmary? Who hexed me? Why can't I leave?" Draco asked firmly, his voice angry but it was tinged with a hint of desperation that clawed at Harry's heart. He was opening his mouth to finally break down and tell the blonde. Everything be damned when he heard something that halted his words.

"I'm tired, Potter. I've just been hexed to hell and back. I don't have time for your half truths or your graceless attempts to dodge my questions. Everyone has been doing that and I'm sick of it! So for once in your life, stop being difficult and just do as I ask. Tell me what happened." Draco said tiredly, his face drawn and his tone weary.

Then a deep sigh, a choked breath and finally a barely audible whisper.

"_If only father was here, he would make it better."_

And just like that Harry forgot the building anger that was close to blinding him. It weakened his resolve and left him reeling in confusion. How could he tell him now? He realized begrudgingly that this must be the reason why Dumbledore was quick to hide Lucius' actions from his son. He berated himself a little for his appalling lack of faith in the old wizard, but not too severely. After all, forgiveness takes time and he still couldn't find it within himself to fully welcome the well-meaning man into his life once again. He sighed as he surveyed the blonde who was waiting for his answer impatiently, his face an unreadable mask and his hands gripping his sword so hard, his knuckles were white. He couldn't stomach lying to him now but he didn't have the heart to tell him the truth either. He breathed deeply as he gathered his fabled Gryffindor courage and plundered ahead. He looked Draco firmly in the eye and said, "I don't know why you trust my honesty for this but I'm glad you do. And having experience with being lied to most of my life, I can appreciate what you're going through so rivals or not, enemies or not, I will tell you. But keep this in mind, Draco. I will tell you the truth. All of it. And you know better than anyone that sometimes the truth hurts more than anything. So think about it first."

Harry moved closer to the boy, examining luminous grey eyes that for once were alive with flittering emotions. Captivated by the rare sight, he whispered softly,

"Be careful what you wish for."

_Perrectum._


	11. Act XI

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy  
**Pairing:** H/D   
**Rating: **NC-17 for violence and language  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU, No HBP Spoilers. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era. Draco-centric.  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.  
**Beta:** the wonderful  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?

**Act XI**

**Post Tenebras Lux**

_After the darkness, the light._

Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, former Death Eater turned spy, bane of all Gryffindors, and slimy git extraordinaire strode into the school's halls. His black robes billowed dramatically behind him, a dark scowl marring his features. Severus was _beyond_ furious. He was fuming! How in all seven hells was he supposed to carry out this insane mission? How could he protect Draco when he was supposed to be luring him back into the bastard's arms? And to kill him by the rites of Judecca? Severus shivered, appalled beyond words. He could never do that to his godson! He could never kill him, much less do it in a manner that had always disturbed him. That rite was by far Severus' worst fear, one that dodged his step every day. After all, it was a very likely future for one who was embroiled in the game he was playing. It was the thing that terrified him the most, a haunting whisper that beckoned in his dreams and had him waking to his own horrified screams, trapped in twisted sheets and cold sweat.

He'd be damned if Draco ever ended up living with the same fear, or have it happen to him in reality.

"Ah. Severus, there you are, my dear boy! Would you like a lemon drop?" A voice called out to him as he came striding down the hall.

Severus quickly turned around, his wand out, a curse ready at the tip of his tongue. "Albus! I swear, one of these days I'm going to hex off an appendage you can't live without if you keep doing that!" he snapped at the cheery old man who was partially hidden and standing underneath an alcove. The damned bag of sweets was cradled in his right hand. Trust the headmaster to catch him unawares whilst rambling on about sweets!

The old man just smiled at him and said, "Nonsense, Severus. I am sure you will be able to restrain yourself from removing any of my body parts without my consent."

Severus snorted as he put his wand back into the pocket of his robes. The desire to use it on the old fogey was almost too much temptation to bear. Suddenly another wave of intense pain assaulted his side. It forced him to lean shakily on the pillar beside him.

"Severus? Are you alright? You don't look so good, child." Albus said in alarm. His lips twisted in a frown and his eyes were shining with worry as he approached the startlingly weak man.

"Well, thank you for stating the blatantly obvious!" Severus snapped, his fatigue and pain getting the better of him. However, after seeing the headmaster's hurt look, he easily recanted by softening his gaze and sending his mentor an apologetic smile, which came out as a pained grimace. "It seems that the Dark Lord's ministrations have taken a lot more out of me than I thought."

"Why are you headed for my office instead of the Infirmary, then? You know I would have sent you there first anyway, in your condition. Tell me why you have done such a thing." Albus chided him as he guided the Severus quickly inside his office a few feet away. Once there, he quickly ushered the pained man onto a couch he'd transfigured.

Severus scowled inwardly. Even now that he was a grown man, perfectly capable of taking care of himself, the headmaster still had the uncanny ability of making him feel like an errant child being called to the carpet. _Perhaps it's a headmaster's requirement_, he pondered idly. Nevertheless, he answered the man, "It is necessary for me to disclose my newfound information, Albus." But before he could go on an all out full report of his meeting, the old wizard stopped him.

"Severus, if you think I am going to let you spend the next few hours reporting to me while you're still flat on your back with pain, you are sadly mistaken," Albus rebuked him. "Now tell me, which potion should I get for you?"

Seeing that arguing with the stubborn old fool wasn't going to get him anywhere, Severus sank further into the sofa in defeat, accepting his fate of being subjected to Albus' cosseting, which was, to be honest, far worse than Poppy's. "There is a strength restoring potion and a pain relieving potion in the left cupboard of my storage room." He said dejectedly.

Albus quickly flooed to get the two vials and watched like a hawk as Severus downed them. The old wizard smiled at him as he patted the younger man's shoulder, "Now that wasn't so hard." Severus just rolled his eyes.

"If you are quite done, Headmaster, I would like to brief you on my report." His face suddenly turned grave and he began pacing the floor. "I am afraid we have a lot to talk about."

Watching the younger man, Albus quickly grew serious. It was never a good thing when the Potions Master paced. "Tell me everything, Severus."

Severus took a deep breath and began his report, "The Dark Lord has assigned me a new mission. He wants me to convert Draco back to our side and if I find that to be impossible, I am to kill him by rites of Judecca."

Albus furrowed his brow. "I suspected as such. Tom would never abide losing someone as valued as Lucius Malfoy's son. He would have eventually tried to get his clutches on the boy." Albus sighed heavily, thinking again about that pale wan boy lying in the Infirmary. "We cannot let either of those events come to pass, Severus. He must not go back to his father and you killing him is, of course, out of the question, as well. Although, I am more worried about the former rather than the latter," he said wearily.

"And why is that?" Severus asked in trepidation, knowing without a doubt that he would not like where things were heading.

"How can we expect Draco to remain on our side," Albus began to explain, "when he can't even remember being on it?"

Lucius inhaled deeply as he strode with measured steps down the main hallway of Malfoy Manor, fully ignoring the squeaks of welcome the House elves were issued as he passed. It was a fantastic feeling to be home after having to stay in that wretched prison cell for all those years. He took off his coat and imperiously dropped it into a random elf's hands, stopping long enough to ask, "Where is your mistress?"

"Blacky and Whitey is serving Mistress tea in the Solarium, Master," a brave one squeaked.

He sniffed delicately and turned on his heel, intent on seeing his wife once again. He strode through the doors and was gratified to find Narcissa exactly as he remembered her. She was dressed elegantly in a light blue dress, her blond hair fixed into a sophisticated hairstyle, and was sipping at her tea delicately, though the serene picture she made was distorted when he spied her hand shaking around her cup. She looked up as he came in, a small tired smile on her pink lips.

"Lucius. Welcome home," she intoned as she rose to greet him. Closing the gap between them, she kissed him gently on the cheek. "I am glad to see that you are well."

"Thank you. It is good to be back. After all, Azkaban was never my favorite place," Lucius drawled lazily as he attempted to usher his wife back to the table. "It would be nice to have some proper English tea again."

However, Narcissa sidestepped him and moved out of his grasp. "Forgive me, Lucius, but I have a headache and need to lie down," she said softly as she turned to leave.

Lucius raised an eyebrow at this and moved to question her odd behavior when his eyes caught the latest issue of the Daily Prophet on the table, instantly determining why his wife was acting like such a frigid bitch.

"Ah so you've heard about the boy," he stated slowly, carefully watching her face to discern her thoughts.

Narcissa frowned at the mention of her precious son and nodded her head jerkily. "Yes."

"And you are displeased? You always did spoil him so," Lucius scoffed. Draco had always been such a Mummy's boy.

"And you did not? You bought him everything he wanted," Narcissa spat, stung by the accusation in Lucius' voice.

Lucius nodded calmly. "He was a Malfoy. He deserved it then."

"And now? He is your son," Narcissa reminded him. Honestly! She knew Lucius didn't care for Draco as much as she did, but this was beyond cruel!

"When has that ever mattered?" Lucius asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He is your only heir," Narcissa stated plainly, hoping that she could force some sense into the man!

"Narcissa, I tire of your questions. If you are going to be emotional over the boy, do so in a manner where you cannot disgrace my presence with it," Lucius snapped, his patience thinned by the woman's dramatics. The boy had disobeyed him and disgraced their family. What else was he supposed to do? It was fortunate that the Dark Lord hadn't killed them all for their son's treachery

Narcissa scowled darkly. She knew there was no reasoning with the man when it came to matters such as this, but she still had to try. Stung and more than infuriated by her husband's cool dismissal, she made to leave the room and slam the door behind her for good measure, but she was stopped by her husband's lazy drawl.

"Although, it might interest you--I do not mean to leave him without assistance." Lucius stirred his tea and took a small sip, his dark smile hidden behind the cup as he saw that Narcissa hesitate.

"You will help him? But I thought you'd disowned him!" Could it be that Lucius would help his son? That behind all those hurtful words and posturing about Malfoy pride, he really did love Draco and could not stand to lose him forever?

"I did and I always stand by my word," Lucius smirked widely, cherishing the memory of striking down his wayward son, "But, dear Narcissa, I never said he would find help from _me_, did I?" He smiled as his wife drew closer. "The boy did have two parents."

"You will let me help him?" Narcissa asked suspiciously, still unwilling to trust her husband's generosity. She knew Lucius Malfoy all too well and he was anything but forgiving.

"But, of course," Lucius replied with a smirk. "Who am I to deny a mother her son's love?"

"You have before," Narcissa scoffed, unable to forget the many times she was separated from her son because Lucius thought her affection to be improper.

Lucius scowled. "If you'd rather not do so, then so be it. I shall forbid you from-"

"No!" Narcissa cried out, all suspicions of Lucius' hidden agenda forgotten. "I will do it. I will help him!"

"Good. It is settled then. Although do make sure I never hear or see it. I may indulge your proclivities towards the boy, but that doesn't mean I can stomach any evidence of them. And if the Dark Lord even catches a whiff of what you're trying to do for him, you are on your own," he stated sharply.

Narcissa nodded stiffly, lest her husband might change his mind if she questioned him further.

"Then I shall retire, for this day has been extremely arduous. Good night, Narcissa." Lucius smiled darkly as he strode away without a backwards glance, thoroughly enjoying his manipulations.

Ah yes, it was good to be home.


	12. Act XII

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy   
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Rating: **NC-17 for violence and language  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU, **No HBP Spoilers**. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era. Draco-centric.  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.  
**Beta:** the amazing Micolerose  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?  
**  
Act XII**

_Quod nocet, sæpe docet_

That which harms, often teaches.

Draco yawned sleepily as the early morning light touched his cheek, the warmth from the sun bathing him with its hot glow. He turned sideways to avoid the irritating sunlight only to find himself still engulfed in its rays. Draco sat up irritatedly, fully intent on screaming for the insolent House Elf that had drawn his curtains before noon when he realized two things. One, this wasn't his bed, and two, no house elf they currently owned would dare do such a thing. He looked around quickly and groaned in dismay at what he found. The events of yesterday was not a dream. He was still at Hogwarts, suffering through a mysterious curse and having no recollection of how it happened.

Scowling in annoyance, Draco pushed off the bed, intent on getting dressed, having breakfast, cornering Potter and making him spill his guts. Then he would demand he be sent home. He'd enough of this place after seven years. He had finished his schooling. There was no other reason for him to remain. He was sure his mother could hire the best Healers to care for him at the Manor. Besides he'd had enough of Gryffindors, especially Potter, to last him a lifetime. He frowned at the memory of his encounters with the boy and the confusing emotions that they always evoked. He was spending way too much time with the Boy Who Lived, since it was clearly addling his brains! He shuddered at the remembrance of the sick thrill that ran through his veins and straight to his groin when he was cornering the defenseless Gryffindor. Where had that come from?

He groaned wearily, tired of his conflicting feelings. The last two days had been a rollercoaster of emotions for him and it had thrown him off kilter. He'd never felt so out of control in his entire life. It was so bad that part of him was actually glad his father wasn't around to see him in such a state. He stretched his back languidly, still sore from his impromptu sword practice yesterday. It seems he was a touch out of shape since his muscles were now sore. He would have to work on that now that he'd gotten his sword back once again. He smiled fondly as he ran his fingers lightly on the blade. At least there was one silver lining in all of this. He brightened even more when he saw a letter propped next to the sword handle, instantly recognizing his mother's handwriting.

Eagerly, he picked the note up and shivered as the strong wards recognized him and fell away. He tore it open and read;

Draco,

Remember that village we visited during our **stay** in France? The one **with** their own separate Designer Wizarding District? What is **the** name of that **old** robe shop you used to love? It was owned by that handsome **man**, Nicolai Peredeux. **Don't** you think their robes were lovely? Even Witch Weekly wants to **write** about this latest fashion find. I really must go **back **sometime.

Narcissa Malfoy

Draco frowned as he read the letter again to make sure he read it correctly, knowing that the letter was keyed to be read only by him. He watched as some of the words were magically bolded and read the secret message within. His family had long made it a habit to seclude the true meaning of their missives amidst seemingly insipid and flowery prose. His mother's message, although bewildering to the most extreme, was clear. Stay with the old man. Don't write back. But why would his mother demand him to stay here? Draco growled, his fingers tightening around the note. What the hell was going on here?

"You must be joking!" Severus snarled angrily at the old fool sitting complacently behind his desk, gritting his teeth when the only thing the man did was twinkle at him from behind half moon glasses. His godson had been mentally traumatized enough and now this? Had the old fool completely taken leave of his senses?

"You don't agree it is the only course that is wise?" Albus asked nonchalantly.

"I see your point in this matter but surely there is another way!" Severus scowled darkly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"It solves two dilemmas at once, Severus. We cannot forget that. And I know that in doing this, we would be instigating a manipulation that is equal or even greater than anything Lucius has ever done but it's the most logical choice. It fulfills your duties to Voldemort and at the same time it serves our purpose as well."

"I know that!" Severus snapped in annoyance. He didn't need to be reminded of something he already knew to be fact. "I know it but it doesn't mean that it's going to be easy, nor that it might actually work."

Albus nodded tiredly. "Yes, that is true but that is a chance we will have to take. The consequences of not doing so are too dire to bear."

Severus growled, knowing that the old wizard was right but he still hated it. He straightened angrily and bit out. "Very well. Is that all? It seems I have preparations to make."

"Yes and for what it's worth child, I am sorry." Albus said gently, knowing that by giving Severus this new mission, he had just made his life doubly hard.

Severus snorted as he turned his back on the man, ignoring his soft apology. He gazed pensively out the window, his eyes staring hard at the Quidditch Pitch where he had proudly watched his godson fly circles around his opponents. He remembered all the victorious nights during Draco's second year, back when the threat of the Dark Lord was but a whisper of a rumor and he could still enjoy the boy's presence. They had celebrated Slytherin's triumph over the other teams, sequestered in his chambers as he listened to the blonde regale him with a play by play account of the match. The boy's eyes had sparkled with life and joy, pale cheeks tinted with pink as he made exaggerated hand gestures while describing each play, his face, for once, open and honest. Something inside him clenched painfully at the thought of never personally getting to see that expression again. Severus sighed heavily, his whole being resonating with exhaustion and defeat. All of his thoughts centered on one impossible question. "Does the end really justify the means?"

Albus looked up at the pained man sadly as he sat back on his chair and remained silent because, for once, even he could offer no answer.

Harry groaned as he grabbed a pillow and pulled it over his head, trying to block the filtering sunshine. Bloody Fuck! He felt like he'd been kicked repeatedly in the head by a cankerous Hippogriff. What the hell? Grudgingly, he sat up and rubbed his throbbing temples. His sleep didn't help his body at all nor did he feel rested. In fact, he felt worse. He sighed as he surveyed the empty dorm room, his eyes falling on Ron's bed last. He really could have gone without another tense confrontation last night.

_Flashback_

"_What do you mean you're going to stay here? It's bad enough that we have to stomach his presence at Grimmauld Place but now you actually want to stay here with the git until he can relocate? Harry? What the fuck?" Ron roared incredulously, his eyes bulging a little and his face rapidly reddening. _

"_Look, he's had a rough day. I just want to help get him settled. He's just left everything he had behind, Ron, in case you've forgotten! He doesn't have anybody else!" Harry shot back with equal anger, furious at how insensitive the redhead was being._

"_And of course it's you that he has to turn to, right? I should have known you'd jump at the chance at saving that slimy git." Ron spat back furiously as he quickly grabbed the rest of his stuff that was on his bed. _

"_What is that supposed to mean?" Harry bit out through gritted teeth._

_Ron merely snorted and began to storm off. "Talk to me when you're done playing the hero then." He called out over his shoulder._

_End of Flashback_

Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance, highly put out by his best mate's infuriating behavior. One would think that Ron wished Draco had just taken the Mark or something! Well Harry for one was sure as hell glad he didn't and he'd make damn sure the blonde never regretted the choice. _Even if he doesn't remember it._ He grumbled to himself as he made to take a shower.

It was sure to be a long day.

------------------------------------------------------

Draco stalked quickly down the Hall, his mind still trying to comprehend why in Merlin's name his mother wanted him to stay behind and not go home. He scowled as he was once again reminded of his odd predicament. Running around without any recollection of what the hell had happened to him. He sneered. Today was as good a day as any to find out and he would not suffer any interruptions any longer! Potter would tell him even if he had to beat it out of him! He gritted his teeth, his jaw set and tense, he was about to go and do exactly that when he was interrupted by the growl of his stomach. He sighed as he started heading for the kitchens instead of Gryffindor Tower. No matter how badly he wanted the truth, it could wait. Plus, he really didn't want to face the obstinate Gryffindor with an empty stomach. Dealing with the boy's stupidity always took a lot out of him.

He gasped when the portrait slid open. There was nobody there! Could it be that even House Elves were gone during summer holidays? But- but how does anybody on the Teaching Staff eat? _They all probably just conjure their food_. He thought grumpily. Or maybe the House Elves were just not in the Kitchen? Perhaps they were in their rooms or wherever the hell they go when they're not needed? Deciding that it was better than doing nothing, he begin to rattle off the silliest names he could think of, hoping to summon at least one elf. "Here, Binky! Tinky! Linky! Winky! Sinky! Pinky! Rinky!" Draco stopped after he realized that not only did he sound ridiculous but not a single house elf had materialized.

Disheartened, he sat heavily on one of the stools. Grouchy and hungry, he stared dejectedly at the intimidating aluminum box type thing that sat in the corner. No doubt a muggle invention installed by that muggle loving old fool. _Bloody Hell! It can't be that hard! I mean it's cooking for fuck's sake! It's not something as complicated as potions making! Hell, Muggles can do it! And anything a muggle do, a wizard can do better!"_ He sneered as he approached the machine. "I want toast, scrambled eggs and some pumpkin juice!" He stated imperiously as he waited for the box to make his breakfast. He wrinkled his nose in confusion when a few minutes had gone by and still nothing had happened. "I said I wanted TOAST, SCRAMBLED EGGS AND PUMPKIN JUICE!" He fairly yelled at the contraption, unsure if the reason why it wasn't serving him was because it didn't hear him correctly. He swore colorfully when after a few moments, there was still no breakfast in sight. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, willing himself to calm down. After a few moments he managed to force himself to choke out,

"_Please_?"

Still nothing.

Growling now that he'd lowered his pride and still no breakfast was forthcoming, he began kicking the blasted thing. "Stupid piece of shite! Work damn you! I'm hungry! Fucking Hell!"

"Master! Don't! What is you doing? You must not hurt the oven!" a tiny horrified squeak penetrated through Draco's rage.

He turned angrily at the small elf, a bit horrified at being caught acting like a raging hippogriff. To cover his embarrassment, he quickly snapped, "It wasn't making me breakfast! Now are you going to or should I start kicking you now like I did with that stupid thing?"

The elf's eyes boggled even more as he gave another terrified squeak and began going about getting Draco's breakfast ready. He smiled as he watched the tiny creature scrambling to serve him. He sat down calmly, happy that finally something was going right today.

Harry hurriedly tugged on his shirt as he barreled down the stairs, intent on nicking some breakfast before going off to contemplate what exactly he was going to do about Draco. He was pretty sure that the next time he saw the blonde, the boy would expect some answers and even he wasn't confident that his ridiculous luck could hold a second time. He had to figure out what to say to the Slytherin and how to say it properly! Not just bungle it up like he usually did. He was so deeply immersed in his thoughts that he didn't see the person in front of him until he all but flattened the man.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Harry began to apologize profusely as he straightened and offered a hand up to the man he'd bowled over. "Professor Lupin!" He exclaimed happily as he caught sight of who he had just toppled over.

"Harry! That was quite a greeting there! What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be moving in to Grimmauld Place?" Remus smiled softly as he took Harry's hand and hauled himself up.

"Sorry about that, Professor!" Harry chuckled sheepishly. "And I needed to get something sorted out which is why I'm still here." He answered evasively.

"Now what's all this Professor nonsense? Didn't I tell you to call me Remus? I'm not your professor anymore and besides you're no longer a Hogwarts student!" Remus chided him gently.

Harry laughed heartily. "Alright, alright! Remus then! It's just so weird to call you that! Anyway, it's so great to see you again! How have you been? What are you doing here?"

"I'm fine! Dumbledore's keeping me pretty busy. In fact, it's what I'm here for. Things have certainly been frantic since Malfoy was released." Remus said with a frown.

Scowling at the mention of Lucius, Harry nodded angrily. "Yeah! I can't believe the ministry would let the murdering bastard loose! Now look at what's happened to Draco!"

Remus raised an eyebrow at that. "Draco? Why, Harry, I didn't know you and he were friends. Last I heard, you were about ready to kill each other whenever you were both in the same room!"

Harry laughed weakly as he ducked his head. "We're not exactly friends, no, but can you honestly expect me to call him Malfoy after what he just did?"

Remus smiled gently. "No, I suppose not. Must I say how wonderful it is for you to be so compassionate even with your enemies?"

Harry shrugged. "I just learned recently he's not all that bad. I mean sure he's a poncy git who thinks he's better than anyone else and he treats me like shite whenever we cross paths. Plus he spews all that mudblood propaganda like there's no tomorrow. Then there's also the fact he's also sarcastic and mean! I could never tell when he's serious or not!"

Remus chuckled as he listened to Harry list all of the Slytherin's faults in one breath. "Um I thought he wasn't all that bad?"

Harry ducked his head in embarrassment. "Er yeah. He isn't. I mean he's still a mean little shit to me but I guess I can't expect miracles to happen overnight." He sighed.

Remus took in the boy's slumped shoulders and defeated posture. "But you want it to?" He asked carefully, trying to figure out what was troubling the Gryffindor.

Harry just shrugged nonchalantly. "It would be nice not to be hated by him."

"Hate is a strong word, Harry. I'm sure he doesn't feel that way." Remus tried to console him.

"Oh really? Well, he told me so himself! You can't really argue against something that was yelled in your face." Harry grumbled.

Remus put his hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "He doesn't know you enough to hate you. Believe me, Harry, I've seen hate. It's not something petty or annoying. It's wholly different from the emotion he has shown you. He dislikes you, yes, but given the fact that he's been basically brought up to do so, it's only natural for him. Give him time. Now that he's finally chosen his own path, I'm sure he'll grow fond of you as we all have. You'll see."

Harry sighed heavily but nodded in response. He didn't want to trouble Remus any further with his confusing emotions, especially since he didn't particularly even know what those feelings were. He forced himself to smile as he quickly changed the subject. "So how bout those Cannons, eh?"

-----------

Harry sighed as he turned his conversation with Remus inside his head once more, trying to make sense of it all. He shook his head. He was so immersed in his thoughts that for a second time he lost track of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing until a snide voice startled him out of his reverie.

"Potter! Are you just going to stand there all day and do your impression of a scarecrow or are you actually here for a reason?"

Harry blushed heatedly at being caught dawdling about like a smitten fool in the middle of the doorway. "Just wanted some breakfast is all." He mumbled as he made to take a seat that was furthest from the Slytherin. He made extra effort not to look too much at the blonde who was eating breakfast as he passed him.

"Why so far, Potter?" Draco called out to the boy, annoyed that the aloof asshole was apparently ignoring him. The one thing Draco could not stand was being ignored. "I don't bite." He taunted with a crooked smile. "Unless you ask nicely."

Harry scoffed as he shifted lower in his seat, his face reddening at Draco's lascivious' tone. Something he'd never heard directed towards him and it made his stomach feel funny. _Gods am I that hungry?_ He thought, feeling as if there were a thousand butterflies flittering in his stomach.

"Oh and don't even think for a second that you're getting out of your promise! You're telling me exactly what the hell is going on! And this time there will be no senile old coots to interrupt us!" Draco growled, steadfastly getting angrier due to the fact that he was being ignored…again!

"Bloody Hell! I just got here! Let me eat some breakfast first and then I'll tell you! I don't think that's too much to ask!" Harry bit out, his anger and the tension in his heart getting the best of him.

Draco snorted, unimpressed. "Fine."

Harry turned back to his food, eating as slowly as possible, whether it was for the purpose of incensing Draco further or putting the whole thing off. He didn't know. He brought the spoon to his mouth, savoring the exquisite flavor of warm porridge on his tongue when from the corner of his eye he saw something that made him choke.

A soft pink tongue peeking out of soft lips and stroking deftly at a metal spoon, wiping it clean. Harry's eyes widened as he followed the movement with his eyes, swallowing thickly when the tongue retreated only to dart out again as Draco licked his lips.

"What?" Draco snapped in annoyance when he realized the Gryffindor was gawking at him. Honestly! It's as if the boy had never seen anybody else eat before!

"Nothing!" Harry choked out, his face flushed red as he turned abruptly away from the blonde. "And do you have to eat that thing so obscenely? Can't you eat your breakfast like regular people not like some bloody porn star?"

Draco scoffed. "I am eating it in a normal fashion. You prude! And at least I don't make porny sounds as I eat mine! You'd think with all the moaning and groaning you're doing over bloody porridge it was giving you an orgasm!" He bit out, his pale face warming at the recollection of the absolutely sinful moan that had come out of the blasted Gryffindor's mouth when he'd first tasted his meal.

Reddening further at that, especially since he wasn't even aware he'd made those sounds, Harry turned his back on the Slytherin once more, shoveling the food in his mouth now. "Shut up." He shot back weakly.

Draco snorted as he returned to his meal at a more sedate pace, silently fuming that Potter had so easily unsettled him once more. He could have done without knowing intimately how Harry Potter moaned, thank you very much! _That's probably how he sounds like when- No!_ He cut off his line of thinking brusquely. He would not go down that road and imagine Potter having sex! Merlin! He groaned quietly as he shifted in his seat, cursing his poor traumatized brain for its lapse in judgment. He was usually better at self-denial than this!

Harry looked up from his food at hearing Draco groan and blushed even harder at hearing such an enticing sound. _Fuck! It's a wonder I haven't self combusted yet!_ Harry thought to himself angrily as his face had seemingly taken on a permanent red hue- at least it did every time he was near Draco. That reason alone was enough to spur Harry into stop stalling the painfully inevitable and just come out and say it. This waiting around was torture and the tension building between the two of them was volatile, more so than usual. Something had to give. Besides, what good would it do if he prolonged it? He was sure he wouldn't be able to think of a smoother way of saying it. He wasn't good at these things and probably never would be. Sighing, he pushed his bowl away, quietly thanking the house elf that cleared it and stood. Then he resolutely marched to where Draco was still eating.

"I'll tell you now." He said softly, his eyes riveted to a point above Draco's shoulder, not wanting to meet the Slytherin's gaze for he knew the despair and rage that would probably seep into them.

Draco snorted and pushed the remnants of his meal away. Ignoring the house elf that collected it, Draco turned to face the boy and was irritated to find that Potter was still resolutely ignoring him for those emerald eyes were affixed somewhere over his shoulder. Sneering, Draco spat out. "It's about bloody time! Now tell me what the hell happened?"

"Look, Draco before I start you should know that-" Harry broke off to breathe deeply, steeling himself to say it. "You see, Lucius-"

"What about my father?" Draco interrupted angrily, incensed that his father's name would fall from the lips of the one who caged him. "Don't you dare insult him! I will not stand for it if you're going take a piss at him! You've already had him imprisoned and if you think for one second I'm going to-

"Draco." Harry cut him off softly mid-rant, his tone sad and desolate as he finally raised his eyes to meet stormy grey.

"He's free."

_Perrectum._

**Exinde:**

Act XIII

**Ira furor brevis est.**

_Anger is brief insanity._


	13. Act XIII

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy  
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Rating: **NC-17 for violence and language  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU,**No HBP Spoilers**. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era. Draco-centric.  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.   
**Beta:** the amazing micolerose  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?  
**AN:** Scroll down for previous chapters.

**Act XIII**

**Ira furor brevis est.**

Anger is brief insanity.

"_Draco." Harry cut him off softly mid-rant, his tone sad and desolate as he finally raised his eyes to meet stormy grey._

"_He's free."_

A myriad of emotions flitted through those grey eyes. Disbelief, hope, fear and joy until Harry couldn't stand it anymore, especially since elation was taking deeper root in the Slytherin's expression. And so with his dwindling courage, he rushed to finish his confession, tripping over the words in his haste. "So he came here yesterday to get you and you said "No". He got mad and disowned you then he left and you were hit by the curse of Juddecca. That's when I caught you and brought you to the Infirmary."

"My father came for me and I refused? I was cursed with Juddecca?" Draco asked softly, his voice strangled by heavy emotion. _I left him? I made that choice? _He thought in hysteric disbelief. _And father disowned me? I'm no longer a Malfoy???_ His eyes widened in panic at the disturbing notion. Suddenly his head began to ache once more and a rush of pain assaulted his mind. He rubbed his forehead to alleviate the crippling pain but to no avail. _It can't be true! It just can't be!_ He thought in shock. He wanted to cry, to curse, to hit something! But most of all he wanted Potter to be _wrong._

"Yes. I'm sorry, Draco." Harry tried to comfort the distressed boy, feeling the familiar stirrings of helplessness at being unable to offer anything but a few trifling words. He cursed Lucius once more for putting them all in this position.

Draco continued shaking his head, this time at the Gryffindor's blatant lie. "You're sorry? Potter, you really are a bad liar!" He laughed cruelly and hysterically. "If what you say really happened I doubt you'd be sorry. After all, it would be one less target on the battlefield, right?"

Harry shook his head, ready to deny such a heartless claim but Draco didn't give him a chance. "And if I am to follow your silly attempt at deception, who cursed me with Juddecca then? Are you saying my own father hexed me with this loathsome spell?"

Harry was about to open his mouth to confirm this but at the sight of Draco's stricken face, he hesitated. Already he could see that Draco was not taking this well at all and he didn't want to add the final blow and break him. It was too much, too fast, and he doubted that Draco could handle it all right now. So he hedged on his answer, even as guilt settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew in his heart it was Lucius that cursed his son but he really couldn't be a hundred percent certain and he'd rather not risk hurting Draco needlessly. "We-we don't know yet for sure." He said softly, realizing at the same time why Dumbledore sometimes hedged on the truth himself. It was not easy to be the bringer of ill tidings.

"Look, Draco if there's anything I could do-" Harry began to say but he was cut off by another sharp bite of laughter from the blonde.

"Yes, there is something you can do for me, Potter. You can stop lying! What did you really think was going to happen here? That I'd believe your filthy lies, cry hysterically into your robes and sign up to be a part of your bloody Order? There is no way I would turn my back on not only my father, who is by your word finally free, but my mother as well for a bunch of self righteous idiots!" Draco shook with suppressed rage. How dare St. Potter try to trick him this way! He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, ready to wipe the floor with Potter's ugly face. He quickly rummaged his robes for his wand. Cursing when he remembered he didn't know where the fuck it was, he yelled for the house elf nearby. "You! Get my wand! It must be in the Infirmary!"

"But Jiggly is-" The House Elf shook with fear as she tried to protest but she was cut off by a roar of pure rage.

"Now, damn you!" Draco whirled around and stalked towards the frightened creature, only to be stopped by a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Draco, calm down! I know this is hard to take but I'm not lying! I wouldn't! Gryffindor, remember? Loyal to a fault?" Harry tried to calm the furious Slytherin down but Draco's ire would not be swayed.

"Shut up! It's not true! It can't be!" Draco snarled viciously as he knocked the boy's hand violently off his shoulder. "Just you wait, Potter! I'll get my wand and we'll see who's lying then. I can't think of a finer time to practice my Cruciatus! That will cleanse your lying tongue!"

Harry gasped as he took a step back, alarmed that Draco had lost his head so badly that he'd go that far. He was about to try another shot at calming the boy when the Portrait crashed open to reveal a flustered, out of breath, and not to mention livid, Severus Snape.

"Potter! I should have known it was you that was causing all this commotion! Even now that you've finally graduated, you still manage to cause me grief! Don't you have anything better to do than terrorize House Elves so much so that they run to the headmaster in fear? And, thanks to you, I had to traipse all the way to the bloody kitchens because of a racket made by hormonal children who can't keep their voices at the appropriate decibels required by polite society!" Severus snarled as he advanced on the two boys who were momentarily immobilized by his sudden and dramatic entrance.

"Well?" Severus raised an eyebrow. "Do you have anything to say for yourself? Or are you just going to stand their like an idiot Hufflepuff all day?"

"Now see here-" Harry began to protest, blushing crimson red in anger and humiliation at being scolded like a First Year when, for all intent's and purposes, the old bat no longer had any authority over him, but he was cut off by a dismissive wave of Snape's hand.

"Never mind, Potter, if I wanted to hear your pathetic excuses or insipid explanations I would have acquired a Time Turner and gone back to the past twenty four hours when I was still your professor and I was required to hear out your asinine babbling. Nevertheless, I suppose it is a marginally fortunate event I have stumbled upon you since the headmaster has summoned you for a meeting. Otherwise I would've had to play a game of Fetch the Wandering Gryffindor all bloody morning. Now, go! You wouldn't want to keep the headmaster waiting."

Seeing it was useless to argue with the infuriating man, Harry clenched his teeth and curbed his tongue. Instead he turned to Draco who was still looking pale but had regained his composure, especially after Snape had started in on Harry. "We'll talk more later, alright? I'll see you after I've talked to Dumbledore."

Sneering at this, Draco replied coldly, "Don't bother. I should have never trusted your sodding Gryffindor honesty for this. I won't make the same mistake again."

Harry's heart sank at that and he couldn't help but frown deeply. He was about to console the distressed Slytherin and convince him of the truth a third time when he was interrupted, once again, by an irate Snape.

"What part of NOW, didn't you grasp, Potter? I should have known that your Inner Diva would jump at the chance of making the headmaster wait!" Severus snarled, incensed that the moron was still there. Seeing the exchange between the two boys, he had soused out that the idiot Gryffindor had told Draco about the incident with his father but Draco hadn't believed him. He couldn't blame his godson. After all, it was extremely hard to believe and, since Draco was a consummate Slytherin, he wouldn't take the truth at face value. He wouldn't accept the truth unless he had no other choice but to do so. Severus sighed inwardly, cursing Lucius in his mind once more. He knew it was up to him to make the boy see reality and he'd have to do it in the only way he could.

Glaring at the old bat Harry made to leave, but before he went out the door, he looked back at Draco and said softly, "I'll look for you later. I promise."

Draco rolled his eyes at this, wishing that the stupid Gryffindor would just leave already. He'd had enough of his presence and his lies. Eagerly he turned to his godfather, knowing that Severus would make everything better. Finally, after twenty four hours of confused existence, his world would start making sense again. Perhaps he'd even complain a bit about the nonsense Potter was spouting. His godfather would no doubt be incensed at that. After all, Severus hated the boy more so than anyone else alive, a fact that Draco could appreciate though not really understand.

"Severus, would you believe-"

"And you!" Severus turned around and fixed his most furious glare on his godson, watching sadly as Draco's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "I can't believe the impropriety in which you have acted! Terrorizing House Elves and making a nuisance of yourself! What a disgrace! You're lucky you can call yourself a _former_ Slytherin otherwise you'd be in detention until the next term starts again!"

"But, Uncle Severus-" Draco started to protest, shock coursing through his system that he'd slipped back to the old moniker for his godfather, his eyes wide in disbelief and his mind whirled at the tongue-lashing he was getting from the man. Severus never scolded him! Never! Not even once in all his years at Hogwarts where he had gotten into more serious trouble over his mischievous exploits. It was well known all throughout their House that Severus favored him above all. This sudden change was like a blow to his stomach and it fed the kernel of doubt that Potter had planted. There was only one explanation for this change.

And his godfather was confirming it.

Severus forced himself to flinch at the name even though his heart had jumped in treasured remembrance at the mere mention of it. "How dare you call me that! After all you've done! Did you really think now that your father has disowned you that I'd willingly associate with a Pure-blood traitor such as yourself?" He scoffed as he turned away and headed for the door, unable to bear another minute of being this cruel to his godson, no matter how necessary it was.

Already he could feel the threads of pain lancing through him but he forced himself to put the final nail in the coffin and break the last remaining tie he had with his beloved godson. He knew it was for the best, but that line of thinking had never felt so false. After this, there would be no turning back. "I should have known that if you were worthless as a Malfoy, I shouldn't hold my breath that you'd be worth much as anything else. I'd watch my step if I were you, Mr. _Black_. History has a way of repeating itself with regards to your _Noble and Most Ancient House_."

Draco watched in horror as his godfather all but spat on him and walked away, his ears ringing with the insults that were rained down on his head. He tried his hand at denial once more but he couldn't pull it off. Not after what Severus had revealed. _Oh my God! He hates me! He absolutely despises me. What have I done?_ Draco clamped a hand over his mouth as he felt bile rise to the back of his throat. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm, but it was too much. The painful throbbing in his head had come back at full force, and sickening realization had settled in the pit of his stomach. _What have I done? I've lost everything! My name, my family…my fortune! Where am I going to live? How will I pay for food and shelter? How the fuck am I going to survive?_ He thought in rising panic. It all made sense now. The pieces of this convoluted puzzle now clicked into place. He remembered the events of the past day and could now see traces of the reasoning behind people's reactions towards him. It explained Dumbledore's patient kindness, the nurses fussy mollycoddling, Potter's insistent hounding and most of all Severus' newfound hate for him.

_It must be true then. Everything that Potter told me. Even what he said about-_ Draco scrambled to open his shirt, not caring that buttons flew as he ripped it open. He panted erratically as he touched his heavily bandaged chest. He quickly commanded the House Elf for a pair of scissors and proceeded to cut away the bandage. Then steeling himself for the inevitable pain, he gripped the edge of the gauze and hurriedly ripped it off, flinching as the cloth rubbed viciously at the stinging curse scar. Shakily he made his way towards the aluminum box and there in its reflective surface, he was finally able to see the truth for himself. He stared at the mound of tortured flesh on the center of his chest which now branded him far better than a Dark Mark could.

T R A I T O R

He staggered backwards, his knees weakening at the physical evidence of the truth. He lost his battle with his stomach as he lurched jerkily and he violently threw up his breakfast. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he stumbled and fell into a crumpled heap on the floor. And then- that was when the tears found him. He gave up his weak struggle to maintain any sort of dignity as he hugged his knees, curled into a ball and cried. He'd already lost everything in the world worth living for would it really matter if he lost his pride as well? He felt so foolish now, especially when he looked back on the times he had gone on about Malfoy honour. Dumbledore must have been laughing on the inside every time he had mentioned his father, about how Lucius would be livid by his treatment. Pleased would be more like it. His tears fell faster as the reality of the truth finally set in. Never again would he set foot in the Manor. There would be no more owls with sweets or prattling letters from his Mother, even she wanted him to stay away. No further lectures of upholding the family name given by his austere father. No more fireside chats with or sarcastic amusing remarks from his godfather.

He was no longer a Malfoy.

He was no longer a Slytherin.

He was no one.

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Several weeks had gone by since Draco's world was brought down to it's knees and, at the insistence of the headmaster, he now found himself living in the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters. Which, predictably, was Harry Potter's hidden home.And who was he, really, to protest? He had nowhere else to go and whatever fight that was left in him had been sucked dry by recent events. The loss of his former life had proved too much to bear, especially when his surroundings reminded him daily of what he had given up. His days were long and listless. He kept to himself now, shutting everyone away by staying in his room for the duration of the day and only coming out when absolutely necessary. All attempts by everyone to include him in conversation or their tasks fell on deaf ears. Draco kept his head down most of the time and refused to look anyone in the eye. His pride and fiery passion had been all but doused by the knowledge of whom he no longer was. Some days would find him in the house's drawing room, staring avidly at the Family Tapestry there. His eyes and fingers ghosting on a treasured phrase over and over again, _Toujours pur_. _Always Pure._ The nights that followed these days were always bad. Often screams of pain could be heard from Draco's room but no one dared to enter for fear of the blonde's retribution. The last time anyone tried, Harry had received a vase to the head for his trouble, and was knocked out for days. In the end, they resolved to respect the Slytherin's privacy. And so Draco continued to sink into a depression so deep it was eating him alive.

Even Harry, who spent most of his days staring longingly and pensively at the blonde's closed door, was unable to receive more than monosyllabic answers from the boy. His attempts of striking up a friendship with Draco was, also ignored, leaving the Gryffindor bereft and depressed which, of course, led to a fair bit of frustration from Ron. The redhead was trying very hard to understand why the Slytherin's rejection bothered Harry so much, but he couldn't come up with anything substantial. And, try as he might, Ron could not forgive Malfoy so easily for his past transgressions, at least not quickly enough for Harry's tastes. That always led to a blazing furious row between the two friends which, more often than not, left Hermione worrying on the sidelines.

Tension was mounting inside the house and it was steadily reaching epic proportions. Something had to be done and Albus Dumbledore knew just the thing. It was the perfect time to implement his plan, although Severus believed otherwise. And this was why, one sunny afternoon, Draco found himself being summoned to the study by the old wizard. He almost didn't show up but the House Elf that fetched him had been insistent, going so far as to even going so far as to say the headmaster himself would come get him if he didn't come along willingly. Having nothing better to do, Draco begrudgingly followed the elf. At any rate, it didn't matter. It was best to get this over with so he could go back to his room. He was sure that whatever the old wizard had to say would not interest him anyway.

"Ah Draco! Would you care for a lemon drop?" Albus Dumbledore offered as Draco walked into the study.

"No thank you, Headmaster." Draco declined as he scowled at the offensive sweet, wondering idly why the man always pushed the sweets as if they were narcotics.

"I know that these past few weeks haven't been easy for you, my boy." Albus said quietly, breaking into the Slytherin's thoughts of wrinkly old drug pushers.

Draco merely shrugged noncommittally, already mentally counting down the minutes to when he'd finally be able to leave.

Undeterred by the boy's passivity, Albus continued. "And your lack of a wand is another burden you've been forced to carry. However, as much as I'd like to rectify both situations, I cannot. Ollivander's has closed down since the last attack on Diagon Alley and my old friend has stored his wands somewhere else to keep them safe. It will be awhile before he can give me access to them. Therefore, I want to propose a plan that will take care of some of your dilemmas."

Albus looked at the boy expectantly but only received a blank uninterested look in return.

"In the meantime, you need to be able to defend yourself, and a hobby wouldn't hurt either which is why I'm going to have your godfather resume your sword training once again. I know it has been awhile since you last picked up your sword. Sharpening this skill would be most advantageous." Albus said softly and sat back as he waited eagerly for the angry outburst that he felt was sure to follow his instruction.

And to his eternal delight, he wasn't disappointed.

Draco's pale face drained of all its colour as the headmaster's words reached his brain. He simply couldn't fathom what the old man was thinking! It was bad enough that he was stuck here for the rest of his days, dodging simpering Gryffindor idiots left, right and center, but now he had to deal with his spiteful godfather as well?! The old man was clearly off his rocker! Severus had made his feelings towards Draco very clear. But then again, he shouldn't be surprised by the amount of the old wizard's naivety. He did, after all, actually believe that Severus was on his side.

"What? No! You simply can't expect me to- Have you any idea how much that man hates me now?" Draco exploded in sheer rage. This was insanity!

"Now, now Draco. Hate is such a strong word. I doubt your godfather would be capable of such emotion towards you." Albus chided him softly as he looked down his crooked nose at the furious Slytherin with maddeningly twinkling eyes behind his half mooned spectacles. The old wizard was clearly amused by his outburst which infuriated the incensed boy even more.

"Well then clearly you're going senile! He hates me and I will not spend the rest of the summer, or however long your hospitality grants me, being pushed around by him!" Draco argued stubbornly. He would not let himself be saddled with a man that hated him! Under normal circumstances he would have jumped at the chance to be with his godfather, but nothing in this world was ordinary anymore and Severus was no longer the man he knew. "Besides I bet you he'd never agree to it." He scoffed as he folded his arms in front of his chest.

Albus shook his head, smiling softly at the first sign of life Draco had shown in weeks. "On the contrary, my boy, Severus is actually waiting for you out in the garden for your first session right about now. I'd hurry if I were you. You really shouldn't keep him waiting."

"What? But- How-?" Draco stared flabbergasted at the smiling wizard for a second before Dumbledore's words finally permeated his brain. Cursing viciously, he took his leave and all but ran to his room to get his sword. If the old coot was telling the truth, and he strongly believed that he was, it was very important that he get down to the gardens right now. Knowing Severus, the man would skin him alive if he blew off this appointment, and that was true even if his godfather still liked him.

Sprinting now, and ignoring the bewildered looks that were thrown in his direction as he sped through the hallways, he finally reached his destination. He quickly made his way to where he saw Severus was standing, already wincing at the cross look on the man's face.

"I should have known you would make me wait. After all, Blacks run on their own time, don't they? Always believing that the world revolves around them." Severus sneered as he eyed the panting boy, ignoring the almost overwhelming need to get down on his knees and beg the boy for his forgiveness like he'd been dreaming of doing these past few weeks. Instead he forced out coldly, "If you are ever late again, you will owe me twenty laps around the garden, is that clear?"

Reddening from exertion and anger, Draco managed to pant out, "Yes."

Resigning himself to the role he needed to fulfill, no matter how much he loathed it, Severus closed his eyes for a pained moment. _Just think of him as a Black. You hate every single boy that has ever come out of that family. This is not Draco. He is a Black. _He berated himself inwardly. It was the only way he could ever hope to maintain his act. Straightening, he glared at the boy and asked expectantly, "Yes what?"

Fighting to keep his composure, Draco choked out, "Yes, _Sir_."

"Hmm, your manners need work but for now it will do. I trust you remember your warm-up? Or are you so completely useless that you need a demonstration?" Severus smirked.

"I remember, Sir." Draco answered evenly as he bit back on another sarcastic retort. Having never dealt with this antagonistic side of his godfather, he no longer knew how to deal with the mercurial man and so, in the interest of self preservation, he resolved to just comply with him.

"Hmph. We shall see. Now start your breathing exercises! You're panting so hard you remind me of a bloody horse. That is not the way to start a session. You should know better." Severus scolded the boy.

Curbing the almost irresistible urge to glare at the infuriating man, Draco closed his eyes and concentrated on regulating his breaths. He knew that if he had any hope of coming out of this so called training session alive, he needed to be calm. So, ignoring the glaring that was still being directed at him, Draco forced himself to forget his godfather's presence for a second. Slowly felt his muscles loosen and his body relax.

"That's enough. You may begin." Severus instructed as he stood back and gave the boy some room.

Releasing his bated breath, Draco stood in a ready stance, held his sword in front of him and then thrust forward, beginning the routine he had learned from the man when he was six. And even though it had been years since he had last used his body in such a way, he instinctively remembered the movements that were needed. His motor memory had recorded every single required thrust and parry, each flick of the wrist and turn of the heel. His actions were fluid and he was gaining confidence with each passing minute. A bead of sweat trickled down his brow as he continued and soon enough his muscles began to protest but he kept going, unwilling to stop without being instructed to. He knew Severus would bring down the wrath of hell if he did so and he would not give the dour man the satisfaction!

Severus hid a small smile as he watched his godson, a glint of pride lurking behind his sour expression. He had forgotten how talented Draco was with a sword! He had not realized how much he had missed their training sessions until this very moment. He shook his head. It was best not to dwell on these things, especially in front of Draco. The past was the past no matter how much he looked back on it. A distracting clash of red invaded his peripheral vision and he scowled when he turned and saw the gaggle of Gryffindors that had crept into the garden to observe their session. Sneering balefully at them, especially at the loathsome Boy Who Lived who was looking a touch too fascinated by his godson, Severus took up his own sword and approached the blonde. "It seems that our little get together has garnered an audience, even the Boy Who Lived, no less! Come on, boy! Let's show these classless Gryffindors how real men fight. Ready your sword. A sparring match would be just the ticket."

Draco swallowed hard as his eyes widened when he turned and saw that they were indeed being watched by almost every Weasel in existence and by Potter as well. Quickly he tried to regulate his breathing and focus all his awareness on his godfather, knowing that his distraction would cost him but the prickling sensation caused by that intense jade stare was infuriating! How he longed to snap at Potter and yell at him for his blasted staring but he was sure that Severus wouldn't take kindly to his break in concentration.

Draco lifted his sword and held it horizontally, the same instant that Severus had positioned his and for a moment they both stilled, breaths deep and eyes locked before they exploded into furious motion. Draco dashed forward thrusting as he went, hoping to gain an advantage early in the fight as Severus braced his body and prepared to block. The jarring sound of clashing steel resounded through out the whole garden and for a timeless second the two figures looked like they were merged into one as they locked swords before quickly leaping apart.

Severus straightened himself with a smirk. "Merlin that was pathetic! I am starting to doubt that this is even worth the effort. Shall I end this now and save you the embarrassment of losing to an old man?"

Gritting his teeth, Draco gripped his sword tighter as he moved to get into position again. _Don't let him intimidate you. Just stay calm. Don't lose your cool._ He reminded himself furiously. Readying himself once more, he burst forward with an increased amount of speed, only slowing down his form when he reached his opponent and twisting his body viciously so he could leap up from above. This blow would have hurt like hell if it had landed on Severus and not on the ground like it did. The "_old man,_" who was faster than he looked, had already spun away by the time Draco had struck.

Severus laughed cruelly. "Goodness! You have to be faster than that! What have they been feeding you, boy? You're not as light on your feet as you should be!"

Cursing inwardly, Draco rose to his feet shakily, the force in which he had hit the ground had jarred his body quite soundly. He staggered a bit as he straightened and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Gryffindors beginning to fret. Hell even Potter was biting his lip in worry! This irked the blonde even more. He didn't need their pity! He didn't need anything from them! Or anyone at all. Glaring at his laughing opponent, Draco readied his stance once more. The knowledge that he was being used as a weapon to intimidate idiot Gryffindors incensed him. But what rankled him more was the fact that he was getting his arse handed to him right there in front of Potter! It was humiliating and that would simply not do! He was good at this! He was! And he would be damned if he'd be beaten on the only thing he had left.

Seizing the first shot of real emotion he's had in weeks, Draco assaulted with full force and his burst of speed and the strength of his attack caught Severus off guard. He lost his balance and was about to be struck when he seized his wand with his left hand and fired off a shielding charm. Then as Draco was left blinking up at him from his position on the floor he quickly stood and held his sword to his godson's throat. "Do you yield?" He asked quietly, ignoring the angered shouts of "_Cheater_!" from the Gryffindors.

Numbly, Draco nodded, his mind not quite catching up to what just happened. "Y-you used magic on me. You cheated!" He protested.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Black. Did that rather rousing round of sword fighting addle your brains into forgetting you were a wizard? Tsk. Tsk. It is fortunate then that it didn't have a similar effect on me." Severus crouched down and looked Draco in the eye. Seeing a spark of the old fire within them, Severus hastened to fan it. Draco needed to be reminded of just exactly who he was and who he could be if he just got over himself and tried! Pursing his lips, he stated firmly, "I am a wizard. I am a Slytherin. And I _always_ win. I don't know what you are, Black, but you'd better figure it out and pray that the answer is among the three I just named. I will not accept these mindless attempts in our next session."

Then, turning on his heel, Severus walked away from his bruised and fallen godson. He closed his eyes as he willed himself to have the strength to leave him broken and suffering once more. Already he could see the seeds of deep hatred taking root into those grey eyes and the sight of it killed him a little each time. But it was for the best_. That's right, Draco. Hate me._ He thought vehemently although his heart continued to sink lower in despair. _Hate me, Little Dragon_. He sighed as his eyes stung with tears he would never shed.

_For in the end it might be what saves you. _

_Perrectum._

**Exinde:**

**Act IV**

_Licet volare si in tergo aquilæ volat._

A man can fly if he wishes, if he rides on the back of an eagle.


	14. Act XIV

**Title:** Carpe Draconis  
**Author:** Aoife Malfoy  
**Pairing:** H/D  
**Rating: **NC-17 for violence and language  
**Genre:** Angst, Action/Adventure  
**Warnings:** AU,** No HBP Spoilers**. Post Hogwarts, Second War Era. Draco-centric.  
**Disclaimer:** Property of JK Rowling. Only borrowing for my own amusement.   
**Beta:** the best ever micolerose  
**Summary:** Is it possible to capture a dragon when you suddenly find one within your reach?  
**  
**

**Act XIV**

_Licet volare si in tergo aquilæ volat._

A man can fly if he wishes, if he rides on the back of an eagle.

Severus strode briskly through the ancient hall of the Order Headquarters, self-hatred suffocating him from within. He hastened to leave immediately lest his well-construed mask of anger and bitter indifference crack under the memory of what he just put his godson through. He cursed this war once more, like he's done so many times already. If only Voldemort had not regain his power. If only he wasn't a spy playing a dangerous role in this bloody war. If only Draco was never born a Malfoy.

If only, if only…if only.

He breathed a sigh as he stumbled into his own living room. Making a beeline for his cupboards, he quickly pored out a drink. And only then was he able to relax his muscles that were stiff and sore from the afternoon's tense sword practice. He inhaled sharply as he downed his cup, letting the sharp smell of alcohol and the liquid fire of absinthe override his senses as they once again offered him escape.

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"Draco! Are you alright? Merlin that was amazing! The way you moved and attacked Snape! I couldn't even see you at one point you were moving so fast!" Harry babbled excitedly and apprehensively as he approached the unmoving blonde. He didn't know if his advances would be received the same way as they had been the previous weeks but he was still hopeful.

Sighing, Draco closed his eyes tiredly and willed the Gryffindor to disappear. He really did not need to be crowded by the idiot especially after he just had his arse handed to him by a man twice his age. It was humiliating! "Potter, what in Merlin's name ever gave you the idea that we were friends? Please tell me so that whatever it is I could go back in time and undo it! I will repeat what I've been reminding you all week long. Just because we manage to fall on the same side of this bloody war does not mean we get to be friends."

Deflating slightly at that, Harry stared down his shoes in dejection. "But I still don't get why-"

"Because! We've been through this before and I will not repeat myself again just because you're idiot enough to forget it!" Draco snarled as he stood, the residual hurt and anger from his training with Severus washing over him like a tidal wave. He rejoiced in the ability to unleash it. No matter who it was that got caught in the fray.

"Hey! Knock it off, Ferret! Harry's just being nice to you! And you should be lucky to get even that much!" Ron interjected angrily as he moved to defend his best friend.

Sneering, Draco shot back. "It figures that you would think that just because Harry Potter, the Boy Who Fucking Won't Die, deigned to talk to me I should get on my hands and knees and thank Morgana. Well unlike you, Weasel, I don't think the sun rises and sets on this git's say-so!"

"You fucking bastard! I knew it!" Ron shook his head in disbelief. "I knew that disowned or not, you're still every bit as nasty and evil as you always were! You're still Lucius Malfoy's son!"

Smirking, Draco inched closer to the git and eyed him coolly, "And don't you ever forget it."

With that parting remark, Draco swept away, his steps lighter than they've been in days and feeling more like himself than ever.

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"Would it really be that distasteful if they were to befriend you?" a voice broke into his smug thoughts.

Sighing at yet another interruption of the brave and stupid kind, Draco turned to face the old wizard. "I am no Gryffindor, sir. Or have you forgotten? Have the terms of my clemency been rescinded? Am I expected then to make nice with your cubs?"

Shaking his head sadly at the boy's sharp tone, Albus replied. "Of course not. I was merely thinking the transition would be easier for you that way. They aren't so bad once you get to know them."

Draco merely shrugged, unwilling to get into a conversation which would have the headmaster extolling the virtues of Potter and his horde of weasels. "A Slytherin has no need for friends."

"Ah, indeed but what of allies, Draco?" Albus asked him softly. "A war, after all cannot be won alone."

"That is true enough; sir, but I don't see how that applies to me. This is _your_ war, headmaster, not mine." Draco reminded the man pointedly.

Smiling softly, Albus shook his head. "Forgive me, my boy, if I can't help but doubt that because for a war that doesn't exist for you, it sure has cost you greatly."

Draco's eyes narrowed at that, unable to come up with anything to refute the old man's words, the truth in them too painful and evident to deny.

"But never you mind, Draco," Albus smiled as he waved his hand dismissively. "Perhaps it is best that you don't listen to an old man's meanderings. You are right not to be bothered by any of this. Because I have no doubt you would be happy even though you might be in hiding or living in safe houses for the rest of your life. I am just glad that at least one student under my care is not troubled by the horrors of this war."

"In any case, would you mind accompanying me for tea? I can see you're a bit winded from your session with Severus and I would very much like to hear how that went." Albus offered with a smile as he turned and went back to his study, leaving Draco with no choice but to follow.

"Please have a seat." Albus indicated the chair before his desk and then waving a hand, he conjured a full tea set. "I believe you enjoy a nice strong cup of Earl Grey with a dash of milk and two sugars?"

Accepting the steaming cup, Draco thanked him politely. Savoring the enticing warmth and smell of the drink, Draco sipped it slowly. Tea always did wonders in soothing him. Narrowing his gaze, he observed the other man shrewdly over the rim of his teacup. He wouldn't put it past the old coot if this was exactly the reaction he wanted.

"How was your session with Severus? I trust he kept his word and did not harm you unduly?" Albus asked gently.

Scoffing and still sore from his defeat, Draco couldn't help but gripe. "Well, if you call being beaten into the ground by him, unduly harmed then by all means yes, he was a good little lapdog."

"Come now, I doubt your godfather would be so harsh. I understand you are both having trouble adjusting in light of recent events but surely he didn't mean to harm you?" Albus asked in alarm.

Draco snorted, "Severus has always been a harsh man, sir, so I suppose I should have expected it."

"Nevertheless, if you feel you cannot handle being tutored by him perhaps it is best that I cancel your sessions? I could get someone else to take his place although I would be hard-pressed to find anyone as good as he is. But if it is necessary, I should-"

"No!" Draco hastened to derail him, horrified at the thought of anyone thinking he couldn't handle a bit of taunting. He was fine on his own, damn it! And he will not be seen as weak! "It's alright. The session was fine."

Relaxing, Albus sat back with a small smile. "Good. I am delighted to hear that. I was worried about how you might react but it is imperative that your skills be as sharp as ever, my boy. Now, how about your accommodations? I know they are not up to your usual standards but I hope they are acceptable."

"They're fine. Either way there's nothing I can really do about it, right? It's not as if you can afford the articles I have lost or the luxury of what I am used to." Draco said bitterly, still hurting over the fact that most of his things, including his clothing were reliant upon the kindness of others.

His smile widening, Albus reached into his pocket. "I am certain I cannot afford it but perhaps with this you can." He opened his fist and there in the palm in his hand wrapped in a silk handkerchief was an ancient ornate key. It was a beautiful key, made of gold and it had an elaborate dragon with ruby eyes for its bow.

Fascinated and more than bit flabbergasted, Draco reached out gingerly to touch it and he was surprised when the dragon in the key jumped to life as its nostrils flared and it turned its head. He was even more shocked when the creature stilled instantly at the touch of his hand and it quieted down almost happily. "What is it?" Draco asked in awe.

"It is your ancestral vault key, my boy, one that was made when you were born. I was told that it holds the majority of the Black- Rosier fortunes."

"But-but how? I thought I was disowned? They took everything away!" Draco exclaimed.

"You underestimate the depth of a mother's love, Draco. Surely you didn't think she would just forget you? A boy she has raised and loved all her life?" Albus asked gently.

Draco shook his head, his eyes still riveted to the magical key. "I-I didn't know what to think. I am no longer the Malfoy heir-"

"But you will always be her son." Albus interjected. "Always, Draco. She wanted to make sure you were well taken care of. She has been keeping that key for a long time. She wanted to present it to you when you were of age but necessity requires that you are gifted with it now."

"But Father-Lucius will never allow this!" Draco exclaimed.

"Which is why it is expedient that he has no knowledge that this vault exists. Your mother's dowry was deemed unnecessary during the time of their marriage, Lucius allowed Narcissa to keep it for her own. He is wholly under the impression that she has flittered it away long ago when in fact, she saved it and when you were born she transferred it into a separate account with your name." Albus explained.

"I-I don't know what to say." Draco said with great difficulty, fighting the rush of gratitude and overwhelming love he felt for his mother. "I never even got to say goodbye to her." He added softly.

"Don't go around saying your farewells yet, Draco." Albus said cheerily. "She has asked to remain informed about your wellbeing and even to arrange a visit with you when it is safe, preferably when Lucius is away."

"That would be lovely." Draco whispered, his eyes shining brightly as his face lit up with a genuine smile. "She must trust you a lot." Draco said thoughtfully as he marveled at the weight of the object in his hand and he remembered his mother's cryptic note. "To give you this, to expose herself in such a way. She must trust you a great deal."

"I would be delighted if this was so." Albus smiled softly, his eyes twinkling maddeningly behind his half-moon glasses.

"I suppose I must trust you as well?" Draco said wryly, raising an eyebrow. "After all, what other choice do I have?"

"But, Draco you do have a choice. Of that I can offer in spades. Whether you trust me or not is your own decision. It will not affect how I treat you." Albus hastened to reassure him.

Draco mulled this over carefully in his mind and could not find any trace of deceit in them. He was surprised to find that the old man meant every word. He would be given a choice. Dumbledore had reiterated this over and over in the span of the last few weeks but only now did Draco believe him. "Perhaps that is the difference between you and the Dark Lord. I have often thought the two of you alike. After all, you both believe in your side with a faith that is blind to all else. He believes that mudbloods should be completely eradicated while you believe they should be allowed to run amok unchecked. As head of each of your factions, the two of you strategize and manipulate the people around you in a manner that you deem best. He controls through power and intimidation while you move people with words of kindness and half-truths. Both of you also have followers who will die and bleed in your name. The only difference is that your people do it willingly whilst his service is forced. You offer a choice while he does not." Draco closed his fist over they key, raising his eyes to meet twinkling azure. "However, I wonder if that is enough. If the difference between the two of you is big enough- significant enough for it to really matter."

Sighing, Albus regarded the Slytherin in front of him with tired eyes. "Your observations are true enough but what you must understand is that we are at war, my boy. There are some things that need to be done. It is a necessary evil, yes, but-"

"But an evil all the same." Draco shot back quietly, his gaze unwavering.

Albus held his eyes for a minute before bowing to the truth in that statement. He nodded his head slightly conceding the point as he agreed solemnly, "But an evil all the same."

Draco blinked at that, he was so sure that Dumbledore would deny it or that he'd be derailed from his opinion with a dismissive wave of a hand but he didn't. And for the first time, he felt that the man was completely truthful with him. He couldn't help but think that this stark uncompromising honesty deserved some measure of respect. After all, not many can stand up for their actions declare them as sin but still be completely unapologetic. It takes a lot for someone to be that wholly dedicated and he could see now why so many follow this man.

A burst of flames interrupted the charged atmosphere, startling both occupants of the room. Albus quickly strode over the fireplace, activating the fire call and soon enough Minerva McGonagall's distraught face poked through.

"Albus! There has been an attack on St. Mungo's! The Aurors arrived just in time to thwart them from taking over completely but many are injured." Minerva informed him without preamble.

"Open Hogwarts immediately, Minerva." Albus instructed her without batting an eyelash. "Make sure that everyone injured and sick are transferred there. The school has plenty of beds and space for the Hospital staff to work with. And I'm sure Madame Pomphrey would be a big help as well."

Minerva nodded quickly, already motioning to end the fire call when she stopped and tuned back, "There are also captured Death Eaters among the injured, Albus. What do we do with them? Send them to the Ministry?" Her voice which had been clinical and strong all throughout her report, broke a little as she added, "Most of them are from this year's Seventh Year Slytherin class."

Draco's eyes widened at that as his thoughts immediately turned towards the people he once called friends. _I wonder if Crabbe and Goyle are okay. With their missteps they're probably counted among the injured. What about Pansy? Would she be there? Or perhaps Zabini_ Draco thought with a frown. He didn't quite know how he felt about hearing that the people he virtually grew up with the last seven years were marked and had actually attacked civilians. The cruel games of bullying other students now seemed darker too him when before he had chalked it up to good clean fun. He had yet to think of what they thought of him now, having seen his apparently very public disownment. His heart sank because he knew they viewed him as a traitor. Whichever student that marked him as such probably spoke for all of them on how they now saw him. _Oh how the mighty have fallen._ He shook his head bitterly. And yet he still wished Dumbledore would spare them. _Merlin I am clearly spending too much time with Gryffindors! _He wrinkled his nose in distaste, surprised at himself for having such a compassionate reaction to his former yearmates' plight.

Albus sighed heavily, his hand flying to his temples as he tried to soothe his headache. "Bring them to Hogwarts."

"What? But, Albus! Surely you don't think it wise to place them in the same vicinity of the people they tried to kill?" Minerva exclaimed, aghast by such a notion.

"Minerva, you should know this by now. Death Eater or not, Marked or not, it does not matter to me. All I see are _children_ who are in need of care. Of course, I am neither daft nor senile, there will be the requisite Aurors stationed by their side. I doubt that they would leave them alone for even a minute so you should not worry about the possibility of escape. They will be tried for their actions but they need not do it while half dead or injured!" Albus explained firmly, unwilling to bend on the issue.

Minerva pursed her lips in a thin line. She wanted to argue against this course of action but she hadn't worked with the headmaster for this long without knowing a thing or two. She knew that there was no talking to the man when he got like this. So deciding to trust him like she always did, she quickly ended the fire call, intent on following her orders.

Albus quickly turned back to the boy. He'd almost forgotten he was there. He smiled apologetically at him. "I am sorry, Draco. It seems I am needed elsewhere. Perhaps we can finish this discussion another day?"

"Of course." Draco nodded as he made to leave, his mind swirling with a thousand questions. Who were the Death Eaters they caught? What would happen to them? Was it possible for him to see them? But Draco stilled his tongue, fearing that the answer he might receive would be the ones he didn't want to hear. So all he is asked when he stood, framed against the doorway was, "Why did you save them? You didn't need to and people might say they deserved a fate far worse than what they got. So why?"

Albus shook his head slowly and he looked Draco in the eye. "My boy, it is not up to me to hand out condemnations. I am neither judge nor executioner for who am I to say that their lives are worth much more than anyone else's? You see, Draco, living for as long as I have you're bound to pick up a thing or two and I've learned that no one really gets what they deserve. You don't get real love, or hate or kindness by earning it because its essence is in its spontaneity. Most of the time, it is bestowed without thought and it is up to us to determine what to do with it. Return it with equal sentiment or not. And that choice is what makes us who we are."

Draco shook his head wryly. "You are a fool." He told him but then ever so slowly he cracked a smile. "But I think I'm glad that you are."

---------------------------

He was once again en route to his room, this time deep in thought over the attack. The war that had seemed so surreal and far away just an hour ago now seemed like it was imminent and looming. He was embroiled in his contemplations that he almost missed the mention of his name. But then again how could he not help but hear it when it was bellowed in anger like only the Weasel King could do? Interest piqued, he quickly hid behind the staircase, wary of another encounter of the freckled kind. He was still sore and tired from sword practice. He didn't fancy another round of insults with the Weasel, especially since it would be likely that it would end in fisticuffs.

"Can you believe the nerve of the Ferret? Waving around his sword like a ponce! As if he's better than the rest of us! Fight like real men, my arse! Just leave me alone with him for a few minutes, I'll show him a thing or two about how it's really done!" Ron's voice echoed loudly as he stomped down the stairs, his face still flushed an angry red hue.

An exasperated sigh followed the angry outburst and then a tired, "Ron, would you cut it out? He's no longer here if you haven't noticed and you're still bloody going on about him! Can't you just give it a rest?"

Snarling, Ron rounded on his best friend as they reached the bottom of the steps. "And why is it that you're always quick to defend him these days? You never did before! Actually, I remember quite clearly how loudly you joined in! What the hell's the matter with you?"

His patience finally snapping, Harry shot back, ""Perhaps I just don't like ragging on people who are on the same bloody side as we are!"

"What happened to you? What the hell did that Ferret do to you?" Ron shook his head in bewilderment, looking at his mate like he's never seen him before. "Because my best friend would not be choosing that git over me! What did he brainwash you? Offer you money? Suck your cock?"

A sickening crunch was heard as Harry stood over an incredulous Ron who was blinking up at him dazedly from where his nose was bleeding on the floor.

"Don't be disgusting! I can't believe you said that!" Harry roared, trembling from the force of his anger and indignation. "I think he is a hell of a lot better person than you are right now, Ronald Weasley! How about you actually stop and think about what he's been through this past few weeks, huh? He refused the Dark Mark! And he just left his whole family! And I thought you of all people would know how important a thing that is! But apparently not! So let someone who has NEVER had a fucking family of their own tell you. Losing the people you love by death or by choice is never easy. Never! And you being a complete tosser is not helping matters! So either stop being such a small-minded bastard or leave him be!"

Then Harry turned on his heel, afraid that something far more magical and damaging might happen if he stayed a moment longer.

Ron was silent for a few moments before he got up gingerly. Stumbling slightly, Ron walked away as he grumbled to himself about getting an ice pack and Hermione. He was sure that at the very least she would hear him out and not overreact like some damn drama queen!

Slowly, Draco moved away from the shadows as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Still staring thoughtfully at the direction Potter took, he couldn't help but think to himself that maybe he should reevaluate his policy on associating with Gryffindors, after all.

------------------------

"I trust that it is done?" Lucius asked as his wife walked into the room.

Smiling for the first time in weeks, Narcissa nodded, "Yes, of course. I am quite happy to do it."

"Good. Then the boy need not rely on the scraps of others like a mongrel." Lucius sneered as he turned back to his work, dismissing his wife.

Frowning, Narcissa stood her ground. "I am glad you are still supporting your son."

Releasing an exasperated sigh at realizing his wife was obviously determined to have this conversation with him, Lucius replied in annoyance. "I told you before, Narcissa. I have no son."

"What you don't have, Lucius, is an _heir_. A son, you still do. How can you deny it when he looks so much like you?" Narcissa asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lucius smiled sinisterly at that, savoring the event that made his wife's question a laughable observation. Draco looked nothing like him. At least, not anymore. There was one unmistakable difference. He had made sure of that. "I can deny whatever I wish. Now I have no time for mindless chatter. Do run along, Narcissa. I have much to do."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed dangerously but she merely nodded and turned on her heel. Lucius was up to something and she was going to find out what it was because no one was going to hurt her son, not anymore.

Not the Dark Lord.

Not his Death Eaters.

Not even Lucius.

_Perrectum._

**Exinde: **

**Act XV  
**

**Mater artium necessitas. **

_Necessity is the mother of invention._


End file.
